“Idolatry will get you nowhere,” said the ice blue-haired nymph to her entourage consisting of 12 yelper-helper frogs and 22 corn mummy beetles from selected countries of the world.
And on she lectured to her patient but drowsy audience, speaking of today’s sunshine, tomorrow’s hope for rain, numerology, probability, predictability and the possibility of global warning.
But thunder was building in the distant north, the thunder of cannon, and approaching. While Marshal Drought and his skeleton armies were marching up from the south.
Soon beautiful Ninifer had to deploy shelter to shield her earthly courtiers. She chose a dodecahedral umbrella of the finest 7th-dimension cloth.
– James Steerforth (© 2007)
I won’t say anything about where this came from or what it is or might possibly be. I’ll simply let it be and ask its possible audience to do the same.
Writers Island‘s word for May 1 is ferocious, and since this is as ferociously unfounded as when it was born a little less than a year ago, this shall be my contribution.