There was now a coming and going of many villagers. I heard them pattering and being as silent as they may. I whispered Blater and Bliter to my side.  I crept out, watching the great Clock with an intense gaze.  The dogs went before me, walking with their heads low. I then stopped and knelt. Blater and Bliter then turned towards me.  I spoke to them:

The hawk took wing

And stretched out his flight

Soaring above the earth

As the sun was raised

Breaking the coldness.  

Shivers ran through the ground

And a silent tremor

Rustled through the trees.

The sky shone vast

Like a golden sea

The hills were gleaming

As the snow faded

All the earth below him

All the sky above him.

The glory of the seas

Rippled and glinted

The sky spread blue

As the white dawn

Low flat plains and rolling hills, Baltic Sea and Nordic Chill,

Timber, Copper, Iron ore, This is Finland evermore.

Winter Olympic Athletes, Conquering many great feats,

Saku Koivu, Hockey star, Proving that all Finns could go far.

Owls Reindeer Rabbits Moose, Woodpecker Bunting Cuckoo Goose,

Finns are related to the critters of their home, and the geographic terrain the creatures roam.

Christian Religion, Theology, Finns glued to faith, just like me,

Lutheran, Presybeterian, Evangelical, Finnish Religion, thought not known to all.

The hours passed. The first man finished the papers and looked at the others. Neither returned the attention. Both were now staring at the door, consciously or otherwise it wasn't clear.

The first man slowly turned his head towards the door.

At that moment, the hinged piece of wood opened. A brown-haired, gray-eyed young man stepped in, dressed in a white lab suit and carrying a clipboard. He glanced at the three at the desks in front of him. And he smiled, a condescending smile.

“My name is Cliff. I'm here to tell you, your time is up.”

A gray room, its walls void of any decor. Three desks, stationed in three corners. In the fourth corner was a locked door.

At the first desk, there was a man of about twenty years old, diligently scratching words on page after page of questions to answer, decisions to make ...and the reasons why. Only briefly would his dark green eyes leave the page and wander towards the door, but then the golden brown shock of hair on his head would drop down again, back to his work.