Monday 27 April 2015

Paper Scraps



It was maybe the two-manys time this one was trying to start the camp, when it drifted down onto my feet.

As this one lifted it, this one heard the cries from up the highground, and the sounds of war echoed as a few paleskins warred down the side of the highground. What with their constant angryloud talking, and their playwars, it took them a half-while for them to make it to where this one was.

When they got to this one, they spoke in childish talk, asking for a property note, whatever that was.

They admired my burning camp.

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