Arthur and I were triumphant in reaching the pr hidey hole atop the hills of rainforest. Thank you PR. (My FB stayed in Brooklyn and entered his enchantment crater in the garage. He seemed to have a good time in his own way I think) There were piles and burned out husks on our approach so I felt at home. Only the coqui army, no rats, which was nice for a change. The roosters like to scratch and I felt akin to them most times. There were waters of rum and concrete pools plus trips on a ketch. The automobile parade was disagreeable but a necessity.
The rehab was successful and my flesh biting tendencies have been reigned in, but the return to beige is slightly foul. I can feel the mind warriors inside, the drudgers and shamblers, the questioners, the poopy pantsers. Thank you all who visited the relics. They like company and it eases the nerves of shiny wizards and wizardlings. I fear their presence again though, the lurkingness, the "future."
Adaptation is key.
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7 comments:
i am sorry about that picture (face disease). It is groders.
I know the annoyingly sweet song of the coqui.
You were sorely missed, Fairy Goddess.
The Sprites were mourning all the morning of your departure and have only recently stopped their sobbin', ohhh oh. Dark forces tried desperately to win over the throngs of simple-minded Trolls, but Woodland Nymphs diverted their aggressions with false promises of sappy wondrousness, and stuck their privates to themselves and each other. There is still a dank ball of gloomy need hidden near the copse off Dark Pond. Come dine with us soon and we can share stories of rejuvenation...
FB your relics were like shining beacons in a sea of non-shining beacons.
sounds like the rehab was good!
Excellent, love it! »
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