A brief account of an unfortunate impasse at the copper and tin factory, gleaned from sources emphatic in their preferences and cunning too. So much is to do with whose seed is whose, whose right of birth passes into diverging paths due to poor sight and comely women, that the gist of the matter, that is blood and lots of it, had not made enough of a statement to settle the matter for sure so that more factions had time to come by their own conclusions making the setup of the impasse complete.
Now then, “In the beginning…
…from the mischief of the slinking prompter who whispers in the hearts of men; from jinn and men. In the name of god, the compassionate, the merciful.”
And there is the impasse, perpetuated through the generations by endless strife as if children spoiled in the belief the toy is theirs and the tantrums which ensue are displays of honor, righteousness, and warrior pride. I close with my heart content in the beauty of the universe and a family to love.