A Musky Tale

Not just a load of bullocks

Adapted from (source), which is well worth a visit

The mage picked himself up, shook the dust from his cloak and retrieved his pointed hat, then walked over to inspect the cart that he had so recently been driving. It lay half on its side in the ditch. While the wheels rotating slowly in the air were undamaged, in the broad sense of the word — they wore the scars of many years of travelling these rough roads — those underneath were half embedded in mud, and one of them had clearly shattered along a grain-line fault. You can’t get decent wood any more, thought the mage. What’s the world coming to? His horse, with the snapped traces still dangling from its withers, stood idly by, eating grass with apparent unconcern. And what are you thinking?

He was still ruminating on the state of the universe and his place in it (this being in any case his natural pursuit), meanwhile collecting some of his belongings that had been scattered by the cart’s collapse, when he noticed a young man approaching from the direction of the town behind him. “Can you assist me?” asked the mage when the young man drew level. “I need someone to help lift my cart up on to the road, and repair or replace the wheel that is broken, and — ”

“I should say what you need here,” interrupted the young man, holding up one finger in such a fearless way that the mage was astonished into silence, “is a crystal cart.”