Original Writing by Robert Leigh Angus

  FRIENDLY LITTLE ABSENCE  (A Dull Knife Story) Friendly Little Absence untucked her flute from her bag and began to play. As she did children began to appear, sneaking in around the fire near her, some tucking nearer and nearer to her, some straying so close as to lay their heads on her lap. Friendly Little Absence did not mind. The early evening sun lowering slowly as she sweetly whistled through the carved wooden tube. She loved these moments of serenity, children coming in, the smaller ones nearer the fire, the elder children standing further back, some holding each other's hands, others fondling each other lovingly, though trying to keep their fondness secret. The scent of young love filled the spring air, as much as the poplar frost covered their clothing with an inescapable yellow hue. Adults followed, when their chores finished, or delayed for the morrow, as the ascent of the moon climbed past the near mountain peaks. The sky darkened, the stars alit across the hea...

RAISED BY WOLVES  (A Dull Knife Story) Raised By Wolves, skin inked with an intricate darkness, his face scarred with tattoos of wax, soot, tree resin, and dark ash.   (PRAYER) Nothing BELOW. Nothing ABOVE. Nothing BEHIND. Nothing BEFORE. Nothing ASIDE. Nothing AFTER. No YOKE, no SPUR, no WHIP. No CHAINS of LOSS, nor GAIN. No FEAR, no REWARD, no OATHS. No HEAVEN, no HELL, no EARTH. Nothing Promised, Nothing Claimed. Truths are False. Obscured by Guile. Guile Profits in Justice. Guile Justifies Profit. Guile in violence. Guile in commerce.   Knowing, Daring, Willfulness, Silence. Define. Decide. Discipline. Demonstrate. Spirit. Element. Body. Thought. Reason, Act, Persist, Reflect. Seeker, Apprentice, Journeyman, Master. Know your goal, Dare to take action, Persist by Adaptation, Practice Secrecy. Plan, Execute, Adjust, Improve Naught raised to Ought. By Guile. Genius Determines Persistant Results.   Everything in ...

  FIRE-ON-THE-SKY  (A Dull Knife Story) “The Valley at the Foot of the Mountain has always been the home of our people. We have lived here since the time before mankind called itself “man”. Our people hunted here, enjoyed the hot pools of water which rise up out of the earth, bringing its healing minerals. The lakes have always been filled with fish, and its valleys have always given good soil for food and flax for linens. We have been here since the time of the buffalo, and the cougar and bear are our friends. The valley has always been fertile, and its rivers and swamps have always given its bounty plentifully. Even in the time of the great civilization, this land was home to few, but visited by many. The ground was visited, and tread upon, but with great reverence. Indeed, this very building was a place of commerce and the centre of the city’s wealth. Now, it belongs to the people, our ancient longhouse, its windows tell the tales of our people and our work. But more, w...

  TALL-MAN-ON-A-HILL  (  A Dull Knife Story) The valley below them glittered, the houses were alight with strange lanterns, what looked like a thousand candles glittering against the night sky. Not a single home was unlit, its windows afire in the glow.     Tall Man had thought often, long and deeply concerning their problem, and the solution seemed to be to find the valley of their cousins and seek their counsel and beg their help. But Tall Man was wary of asking for too much. It was easy to ask, and easy to receive if the need was great, but debts often lasted longer than the people who make promises, and this journey was far and perilous. None were lost this time round, though, and the children were well behaved and quiet most of the trip.     Tall Man thought upon his friends buried in the deep of the ground below their village, huddled in the caverns deep below the ground, in the ruins of the old city, buried many generations before. Wha...

  DESERT BOY  (From Dull Knife's Story) He kicked at the corpse at his feet, flies shooed from its bloated face, but returned once again settling on its swollen tongue which extended from its bruised lips. All were like this, laying here or there, none showing signs of pain, only the drunken sleep that took them when their jugs of whiskey were emptied. None survived.     Desert boy knew that he should have left the valley, but he felt the draw to return when the sun arose. The sight that met him when he looked down into the valley did not measure with his expectations. No smoking camp fires, no bustle of activity, no horses. Just, this. Dead men, dead fires. Horses tethered, but thirsting.     Desert Boy brought the horses to the nearest coral whose fences still stood, and two by two set them to graze on the wild grasses. Now, what of the men? The corpses were stiff and swollen, their once proud muscles now tight and bloating. These were men whose s...