Roz Kaveney (rozk) wrote,
Roz Kaveney


The Technician

It started with the cats. The birds as well.
The specimens they brought him were no good
Too thin, too mangy, broken wings. He would
go looking for some better ones, would sell

cat bones for magic, buy a healthy one
and then treat that. First stifling with a hand
or twisting a birds neck. Dry them with sand
and use natron and spices and the sun

then wrap them carefully. He'd show the priest
of Thoth, priestess of sly Bast, the result
and bask in praise and quietly exult..
They brought an old man, and his wife, at least

eighty years old. They'd hardly need to dry.
Perhaps he'd use some slave who caught his eye.
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