“We love you, baker b.!
“And we want you to come home too!”
“Not for a while, Mother, Father.” And so we, I, continue… The last of my kind.
Besides, these aren’t really my shared little world parents. I saw the unequal love since almost the beginning, one in the air, the other not.
Rock beats Paper because it possesses Scissors, a depravity of what was suppose to be a round and round and round, fair deal situation.
And with the examination and usage of this sculpture menagerie replacing my original one coming from Newbank/Newbrooke, I think I might be done with the Bellisaria series of continents as a whole for a while, however which way you spell it. Other places to examine. Like Paperville.
—–
Peter Oesso, clothes back on and red rose dreams finally ended, sits at a table drinking espresso to match the returned t-shirt, waiting on…
She remembered.
Sunklands 