MABEL
Who the fuck stole pianos anyway? Mabel couldn’t imagine the amount of irritation and annoyance it would’ve taken simply to get the instrument out of the lighthouse, let alone a ship.
But perhaps that was for further contemplation.
The breeze chafing in hardly bothered her; used to the mournful sounds of her own mind, of her own spirit, of empty rooms and vacant halls and hollowed out frames. But as for the remains of pumpkins, none seemed to be in sight, as she scanned the fields, as she looked out over the distance of patchwork greenery and shadow. “No.” Another shake of her head, and she meant to turn, to meander in the same wake as before. “I think we can head back now. Do you have any other stories?”
{FIN}
But perhaps that was for further contemplation.
The breeze chafing in hardly bothered her; used to the mournful sounds of her own mind, of her own spirit, of empty rooms and vacant halls and hollowed out frames. But as for the remains of pumpkins, none seemed to be in sight, as she scanned the fields, as she looked out over the distance of patchwork greenery and shadow. “No.” Another shake of her head, and she meant to turn, to meander in the same wake as before. “I think we can head back now. Do you have any other stories?”
{FIN}
Let's go to war to make peace
Let's be cold to create heat
Let's be cold to create heat
