A section about my family, in case I don’t skillfully and unobstrusively weave any of this information into the very fabric of my story
My younger brother, Nimble Jack:
My brother won’t tell me where Mother Goose got that poem about him jumping over a candle stick. I suspect candle stick is a (or is it an?) euphemism, but am not sure. In any case, he’s neither nimble nor quick. His movements are usually slow and deliberate, which made it easy to dodge his blows when we were little and fought all the time. Of course, I suspect that the poem isn’t about him at all. It’s probably about another Jack entirely. It’s a popular name here in Fairy Tale Land.
Anyway, Jack is tall, in fairly good shape for a middle aged man who doesn’t work out, but he doesn’t drink a lot of ale. He has short brown hair and grey eyes, and a flattened part on the tip of his nose, as if he was trying to peek out through mother’s belly button as an infant but only succeeded in getting that cute deformity. At least, that’s Goldilock’s theory.
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