Grasshoppers creaked, bees hummed, a stream played peacefully by itself as it meandered in its stony bed through the quiet mountain valley. And then Tawus was there in his famous cloak, its bright fabric still fizzing and sparking from the prodigious leap, its hundred eyes, black, green, and gold, restlessly assaying the scene. Tawus had … Continue reading The Peacock Cloak by Chris Beckett