affame_le_geant_something_is_wrong fyn gula horse-shaped clouds galloped across the moon, skaters upon a circle of ice hung from a thumbtack in the sky. puppertwinkle slept and dreamt he was rolling a log along the bianca strada all alone. and when dawn arrived like a newborn child wrapped in a merino blanket inside a willow branch basket set upon the brick steps of a small cottage in a friendly forest, she did not cry. her pink cheeks were the rosebuds we must stop to smell, for even though they are tight-fisted, they emanate the fragrance of promise. it was then that puppertwinkle woke, lifting his head from the collaged package. he had been fast asleep on the foto of himself carrying the head of the broken dandelion. somehow he knew this day was going to be like none other. during those lost years after the wooden cart's hemp cords broke loose from the pull of the portuguese rescue squad, puppertwinkle, with the aid of maris den ciean kraftangels, was able to construct a comfortably viable house out of the wreckage and other lumber they created out of the pyrothekian woods. the home was not large but it had rooms and it was into the kitchen the little dog went, um, after tinkling on a dead stump, to make the morning espresso. as it gurgled and hissed on the stovetop, puppertwinkle took it off the log burning flame and stretched his tiny musckes, sore from being slump-assed over the collaged package. he couldn't believe how exhausted he had been the night before. it kind of scared him that he had basically passed out, vulnerable in the open night. "fucking proina could have come by and snatched me," he thought, and a shiver ran over his body like a daddy long-legged spider. he checked on saumboo and found him in the first few confusing and delirious moments of waking. he gave a quick look at feignez's wings glued on his back to make sure they had not fallen off. they hadn't. saumboo seemed oblivious to them, however, puppertwinkle knew this situation, though presently undetectable, had all the potential of a landmine. he just had to keep saumboo from stepping on it. puppertwinkle swallowed hard. he hated the way he thought such negative shit. paranoia jumped on his back like a monkey, sitting there and filling his ears with the irritating chatter of erroneous accusation. it stuck a brand of guilt from the fires of hell that was initialed SD for "satan's dog." puppertwinkle fought off the oppression and crawled up saumboo's stone body until he was next to his face, the only thing left to him that was still human. immediately he sensed something wrong. "la buena manana, como es usted?" he asked. "algo le esta inconodando?" "algo esta si," saumboo said. yes, something was wrong alright. 021009 what's it to you? who go blather from