He lay silently,

Knife lodged firmly in his back,

Where there should have been blood-

Letters forming Words poured out...

Onto the ground, by my foot

Large black letters,

Making beautiful words,

A magical experience indeed....

Finding a large box,

I started to collect them...

I wanted to get a  broom,

To sweep them up hastily, should anyone appear,

But so precious, the letters,

So refined the words....

I lifted them one by one.....

reverentially...

keeping my inheritance secret.

was of prime importance,

To me.......

i lay down beside the dying man

"for me, my lord."

"For you only," was his reply,

I made him comfortable....

As I placed the letters into the box.

Letters written in indelible ink...

My fortune, my very very own fortune...

Let them take his seemingly valuable items

For these letters,

Can form anything

Anything and indeed Everything.......

They came to life before my eyes,

Formed their own words,

Sentences, in a blink of an eye....

Magically,

He rose to his his feet...

Emptied his pockets,

Presented me with more letters.

Words spilling out on to the floor,

So that I should once again,

Stoop at his feet to lift them.

In Ecstasy

I watch him leave the room...

knife now on the floor,

Smiling over at me,

Or is he laughing at me............

i care not.

For now I have his vocubalary.

It came with a spell check......