marox_pass_the_parade_of_nylem fyn gula it was with the help of the white paper birch, that tree with the hundred eyes, that maylay was able to look into and catch that first glimpse of nylem. "dust," he said, squinting into one of the black eyes across the bark. "a cloud of dust." "see anything else?" nabiscus asked, trying to nudge his way in for a look. "yeah, wait, it's some kind of...some kind of...parade." sure enough, just moments later out of a cloud of lavender dust and the fragrance of clary sage came a most unusual sight. leading the peculiar procession were a motley, rag-tag group of children with glum faces wearing the expression of being forced to do what they didn't want. "are those chains around the wrists and ankles?" anton asked. they were. all of them hooked together. it rattled and tinkled as they awkwardly performed a badly choreographed dance. the bindings made nasty bruises and tore at the skin, illiciting winces each time they lifted their skinny arms in costumes that were garishly oversized. "what the fuck!" nimbia breathed out angrily. following close behind was a small minstrel band playing century old, out of tune renaissance music on rusted brass insruments and ripped accordions. it was made up of men and women so old and feeble that some of them had to be pushed in wheel chairs. one man hit a tambourine against his walker as he shuffled along. a woman with hair like a cirrus cloud simply fell over from exhaustion and was kicked out of the way by an insidious guard. a tumbling paper in the wind. "this has got to stop!" nabiscus yelled. "wait. it's just beginning." maylay said. "look what's coming..." 010613 ... friends just then, a black helicopter hovered over the birch gove. a blinding light issued forth, not unlike the gaze of some all powerful being that the religos get so sweaty about. "fuck me" mumbled nabiscus. "it figures THEY would show up here. In a turgid storm of birch leaves the helicopter hovered lower. within moments the air was thick with shiny black windbreakers bearing the "ATF" logo in bright yellow across the back. Having run out of crazy cult winos to fill with lead and set aflame, the US goverments high profile multi-purpose goon squad had decided to crack down on the rampant abuse of childern as slave parade labor in text based internet nonsense. there was no doubt things were going to get interesting now. don't let friends blath drunk 010613 ... log burning fire give me your hand, the dog in the garden is covered in mud dragging your mother's clothes. the farmhouse is burning down. take what you will, give it as fast, as high as the flames will rise. whispers around the trees. the junipers bend as if you were listening. iron and wine. your father is drunk as always. cinder and smoke. you'll ask me to pray for rain. with ash in your mouth you'll ask it to burn again. 060219 what's it to you? who go blather from