There’s a rhyme you probably know: Sugar and spice and all things nice, that’s what little girls are made of. Slime and snails and puppy dogs tails, that’s what little boys are made of.
It’s a rather stupid rhyme. Which made me want to be something else entirely. But once upon a time the title of Path was a variation on this theme, regarding the makings of legends.
And after failing once again to write something remotely clear to summarise the series I dreamt this little rhyme:
Choice and beer and the things that you fear. That’s what legends are made of.
Sadly, this makes more sense than some of the other things I’ve written on the subject. I am going to go and beat my head against the wall now until at the very least it stops rhyming.