affame_le_geant_how_did_this_happen fyn gula saumboo, still shaking the cobwebs from his cluttered mind regarding the distubing nightmare he was subjected to, paid little or no attentin to puppertwinkle's concern. he was like a tree with a disease, first dropping its leaves in an attempt to preserve the last breaths of sanity that were struggling to remain and then weakly continuing, oblivious to its surroundings. "what did you say?" saumboo asked, finally. he was responding to the little dog's query about package three. the dream image of himself flying over a crowd of people and then crashing was stained permanently on his soul. a tattoo he had scratched upon himself by an amateur during a whiskey drunk. "should i open deese next one, senor?" puppertwinkle asked. he felt distant from saumboo, standing on the shoreline of his disregard, watching the boat drift away. he wished he could reach him, but saumboo was inside his own isolation booth with glass walls he could not penetrate. however, he was happy for some sense of oblivion because it meant he could avoid telling him about the truth of feignez's wings. even so, he didn't favor this type of happiness because he felt as if it could crack open anytime and terrible things would come leaping out. "what the fuck are you talking about?" saumboo murmured. his tone was all gravelly and shit. puppertwinkle expected little pebbles to fall out out of his mouth when he spoke. puppertwinkle looked up at saumboo. he hated when he was like this and the little dog feared it was not just a phase, but an actual change. he beheld the strain on his face, the lines marked by stress, the black circles under his blind eyes formed by insomnia and poor nutrition. the nervous tic he had begun to acquire, this sad spasmodic twinge appearing at the left side of his jaw. "how did this happen?" the little dog wondered, and he felt tears stinging his eyes. there was no reason to respond to saumboo's malevolence. it was an exercise in futility. his reactions were confusing and his behavior was a mystery that surrounded puppertwinkle like a gauze that he was just now beginning to unravel. one thing in particular was very clear... first evident when saumboo beheld his future in the ascance del mundo and now reaffirmed and magnified in the clarvoyance present in his recent nightmare, saumboo realized his days to come were set in stone. (no pun inteneded) and his inability to change it frustrated the living fuck out of him. all manner of psychological garbage was accumulating in the dustbins of his fetid soul. apathy, depression, isolation, anxiety, anger, etc. puppertwinkle shook his head. his ears drooped with despair. he went ahead and opened package three anyway. 021011 what's it to you? who go blather from