( a little short, so it's still in the process of stretching)
-2-
It's cold. It's November and summer's stay was a painfully wonderful memory by now. At least she had the decency to come with her pitiful sweepers.
Let me explain Agnes Allotte to you. She's just under five feet tall, has wide gold-brown eyes and hair so pale it's white. It's not blonde. I refuse to call it that. It's like snow.
The dark-haired, serious-faced man wandered in the woods, trying to untangle his brambly mind. He had so much to do with what had lately happened to him, so much to consider. A wise decision could mean worlds; a foolish whim could cost dear, devastate it all.
His long black coat drifted in a breeze. The air was crisp, but not unpleasant, and robin’s-egg blue flushed the sky. A female robin herself twittered on a bare branch overhead.
Olori
Ólëanye ville
Ólëanye ramar
Ólëanye aiwi
Ólëanye i vilya
An úpólinye vile
I vilya ólëanye
Aiwi ólëanye
Ramar ólëanye
Ville ólëanye
Dreams
I dream of flying
I dream of wings
I dream of birds
I dream of the sky
Pieces green and yellow tumble out;
The map is laid; the boxes closed.
In Greenland green is placed,
And yellow down in Congo.
Green has Great Britain
And Siam is yellow,
While neutral piles out
Blue as usual.
Green calls out attack.
Dices roll out, six to two,
Yellow has lost; Brazil is gone.
Blue is attacked on Iceland,
Which is too small for a pile of armies.
Yellow has Asia, except for Japan,
Which neutral is owning.
Green has America,
Even down to the south.
*a sequel.*