The bourne spot of the regal fastlane began a top shelf journey to bring rain from the ground to toss amongst the ones still stranded behind. But the most frivolous task shot straight out beyond all expectations till the pit ran blue of copper. Some laughed. Sholan wept. But everyone danced. The sun rose amongst star bodies to cast shadows into the vacuous eyes that beheld it. When it grew tired it bled out, leaving not much to grasp onto within the small time of the decent.
Separate bellows crept slowly to blind any who spit the train. But the train, having departed from the tracks several ticks before, we hadn’t the slightest remittence for the soul that it thought they were going to have. We pointed toward the dirt that would lead separate bellows away but he cast stones past the river and leapt into the darkest light. With smiles all around we packed the bags, turned our eyes up to the sky now full of the blood of the sun, and kissed the moon.
