small_red_friend raze none of the elements he was comprised of were anything remarkable, but he pulsed with a strange magic that had no clear origin or explanation. he tried to touch the sun, coming only close enough to say hello to a star that refused to return the greeting. when i held him in my hand, his skin was wet with oil disguised as sweat. and when i opened him up, his guts were a network of silver wristwatches whirring with quiet fury. well-kept time was his lifeblood. pennies and salt fell like water from a faucet, to cool his improvised intestines, and i felt concern for a creature wiser and more naive than i could ever hope to be. 130605 what's it to you? who go blather from