Drip, drip. It was difficult to walk on one leg. Fortunately Lord Heavenly had chopped John’s leg, not his life. John crossed the patio and searched for the gold coin. It was not under the vegetable cart or the empty wine barrels in front of Wimpey’s den. He searched everywhere. He would buy a nice sword, he thought, lusting for the gold. Soaked and impatient, he suddenly slipped and fell against an abandoned sickle. It dropped violently. Well, now he had done it, John thought. Drip. And he didn’t even remember anymore why Lord Heavenly had chopped his other leg.