put-out-bay

“Interesting art, Mrs. Fogg. Are those Second Lyfe images?”

“Always,” Wanisa Fogg would usually reply to such a question, but presently she was crying. Profusely. Mabel’s red violin she had found earlier in the day lay central on the table. The fog always swirling around her was as thick as it had been in many a year. Grieving fog. Even after all this time.

For this was what her seafaring spouse was always looking for. Perfection, he termed it. But it never came; was never collected, crumpled and ruined, on the ocean floor, much less bobbed up on the surface in absolutely pristine shape. May 28, 2018. A magical day in Mrs. Wanisa Fogg’s life. This is when she learned the truth about her husband’s death. And also his rebirth. On Yd Isle.

“Hi! I’m a talking violin!” it said.

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