Folk Tales

A 1-post collection

Challenge #02532-F342: Soul's Music

The devil sit down on his throne moaning of what he lost, his own pride fell apart think of the cost. Whenever or not to rise again but came walking in a old man; scratching a itch, he pulled out a golden fiddle and said “remember me bitch” -- Anon Guest

Fire on the mountain, run boys run/ Devil's in the house of the rising sun -- Human Folk Song.

Humans love to tell stories about immortals. People who made a deal with evil in order to live forever. People who can rewrite their entire bodies in a flash of pyrotechnics. People who, in a rare spate of Human insight, were cursed to live forever.

Those Humans who do manage to gain such an alleged boon have either committed a great act of heroism or a great act of evil. There are few in-between. Then there's Johnny. He's an old man, now. If you cross his path, you wouldn't bother looking at him. The only thing to make him stand out is the fact that he holds two violins. One is always in its case. That's because his second violin is pure gold.

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