From 9360e7c511b08b109608ec9c2a70bd18f1d02352 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: "Adam T. Carpenter" Date: Sun, 5 Apr 2026 08:17:50 -0400 Subject: feat: winter court --- posts/2026-01-25-tower-on-the-moor.php | 129 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 129 insertions(+) create mode 100644 posts/2026-01-25-tower-on-the-moor.php (limited to 'posts/2026-01-25-tower-on-the-moor.php') diff --git a/posts/2026-01-25-tower-on-the-moor.php b/posts/2026-01-25-tower-on-the-moor.php new file mode 100644 index 0000000..003ed5a --- /dev/null +++ b/posts/2026-01-25-tower-on-the-moor.php @@ -0,0 +1,129 @@ +

Tower on the Moor

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+Nat1's Winter Court is a prompt-driven writing challenge! The goal is to write a short story with specific parameters once a week throughout January. This is my third submission for the fourth week. Get your copy of Winter Court: Year One, 2026 here. +

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+Prompt +
+ +The cat in the library is essential for everybody’s safety. +

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+Required components + +

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In far off place and distant time

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Did warming rays of gold light shine

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On earth and leaf of grassy moor

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Where old rain called up petrichor

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’Tween river and deep sea’s embrace

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Great arching tower of wood face

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And torches bright with orange flame

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A library’s figure proclaimed

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Where weary minds and feet found rest

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And hungry readers’ eyes were blessed

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With stacks of shelves and quiet nooks

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That teemed with mountains of old books

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For these they quested far from home

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Some to consult a magic tome

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Or maybe ancient tales of dead

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Perhaps the secret to good bread

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Among the rafter’s bird’s eye view

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One could perched see the tall corkscrew

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And watch the bustling visitors

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Close, open and pass through oak doors

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To access volumes leather bound

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Did that great staircase spiral round

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It twisted up and down again

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To airy spire and deep dark den

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One not secured by lock or key

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For every title there was free

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All written truths were on display

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To be enjoyed through night and day

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Old myth and fact on heaven’s grace

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Deep secrets hid in that grand place

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‘Mong reams of childrens’ painted scribbles

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All these belonged to old wise Nibbles

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This Nibbles, guests would speculate

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Kept to himself to concentrate

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They did not know or failed to see

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The true form of this addressee

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Since teacher, bookworm, study too

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Could truly not be sure just who

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He was he came and went as pleased

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To rub his chin upon their knees

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Mentees ignored his trotting round

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The tower’s dorms and maintained grounds

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His spritely hunting of white rabbits

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And lengthy, lazy sleeping habits

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In fact they paid no mind at all

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To that cat’s slumber in the hall

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Yes, whiskers white and coat of gray

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Adorned the master of their stay

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Curled up in lap he sometimes read

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Whilst getting pet upon his head

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Rare times at their fingers he nipped

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One man’s notes were freshly ripped

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But for their respite so secure

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In his great tower on the moor

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Did Nibbles have but one lone rule

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Books mustn’t cross the vestibule

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These writings he would share with all

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Should never leave his reading hall

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To take a book twas leant not sold

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Was certainly a crime of old

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In the dark nightfall wreathed in black

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Dared bands of bandits to attack

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With quiet, skulking thieves to take

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His tomes but not for learning’s sake

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Whilst raiders leered and lurked about

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The cat’s sharp claws did protrude out

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Those not asleep up high in dorm

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Saw Nibbles in his lion form

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Great razors grew from small cat claws

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To befit shaggy mane and paws

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So massive, gray, and outraged he

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Defended his vast library

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He crept and stalked the thieves of night

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Who wished that they had died of fright

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Instead he rent them flesh from bone

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And purged their bodies from his home

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When twilight waned and dawn arose

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Would Nibbles yawn and twitch his nose

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Exhausted from his dim campaign

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And he became tomcat again

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So beast of claw and sharpened tooth

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Curled up again on window booth

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No reader ever was the wiser

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They just presumed him a late riser

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And thus the tomcat of the halls

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Did keep his books to share with all

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For questers coming to and fro

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To seek the orange torchlight glow

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Not once would they raise the alarm

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While on his watch they saw no harm

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Don’t try to ask to them; they won’t say

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They minded not the cat of gray

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Birds and rats and rabbits too

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Know Nibbles more than humans do

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And keep his secret without doubt

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They do not dare to rat him out

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Should journey you in place and time

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Heed this bird’s warning of short rhyme

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Ye burglars had just best beware

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The fat old cat with the gray hair

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Who slinks among his books and purrs

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But after dark he grows and stirs

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There’s no place for wayward crooks

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Among the stacks of Nibbles’ books

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