A Thousand Tongues of Silver
By Kate Heartfield
I am a book. My pages are purple.
This is how they made me. First, they flayed the calves, stretched and scraped their wet skins. Then they mixed lichen and leaves, rotted in human urine, to mimic the purple that comes of torturing sea snails to force the desperate spew of sedative. Soaked my pages in all that stink until they turned the colour of violence.
Then I was ready to receive the quill. Letters of suspended silver ink, with plenty of copper to prevent tarnish.
Why silver, you may ask?
Well, look how beautifully it shines against the purple. Isn’t that reason enough? It was reason enough for Amalasuintha. She didn’t question it. (Continue Reading…)