affame_le_geant_after_the_fall fyn gula it was as if a faucet had been turned slowly all the way to the right for this fall of birds, like bizarre drops of deadly water, gradually decreased until there were no more. an eerie silence descended on the travelers that had escaped proina's wrath, of which there were not many. dead birds were everywhere. those that were still alive as they fell were now surely lifeless from striking the hard earth. frau werzenwozen sighed deeply as if she had been holding her breath through the entire ordeal. she still held puppertwinkle in her arms who was trembling glassy-eyed. a pair of grackles were in her lap that somehow ended up there in the melee. they slid off to the black and white beehive tile of the wooden cart as she stood up to survey the damage. the dandelion, who had pulled saumboo to safety was holding what was left of his dear friend the tulip. her leaves were shredded, her face smashed, her stem snapped. all that remained unscathed was her bulb. "won't she grow back a new body next year?" frau werzenwozen asked, setting puppertwinkle down. he stepped delicately over several dead birds to reach saumboo. he crawled into his lap, stood aginst his chest, and licked the blood from his cheek with tender compassion. "she will." the dandelion said, beginning to sob miserably. "sadly she will return as but a shadow of her former self because she has not had sufficient time to soak sunlight into her leaves and send the proper energy to her bulb. she will be all leaves and little flower. she will have no desire for beauty. she will spend too much time watching television and will neglect the bookstore. she will listen to commercial radio and eat at fast food restaurants. she will drink supermarket coffee from styrofaom cups." "well, at least she vill be alive," frau werzenwozen said. "there is no life unless you are pursuing the dream of who you can be," the dandelion said, and with that he threw the tulip bulb as far away from himself as he could. it hit the body of a crow and settled there, useless. frau werzenwozen shook her head with disbelief. "the dude ist whacked," she thought to herself, "but he does hve conviction." she had also been thinking about the spegnere through all of this since he was completely exposed and unable to find refuge from the fall of birds. she stepped off the cart and was knee high in feathers and wings. she trudged only far enough to get to the front of the cart, bird blood staining her black clothes like some grotesque art project. her worst fears were realized. the spegnere was not even visible for he had been utterly buried in the broken, twisted avian bodies. "fuck!" frau werzenwozen screamed. her voice echoed along the bianca strada like knowledge demanding reason. she lost it. diving into the pile of death, she grabbed armfuls of birds throwing them out of the way left and right, digging with absolute frenzy, blood spattering her elvis costello glasses until she found him. 020526 what's it to you? who go blather from