Dectrualy, 17th

Well, that was it. Upon the twilight of another night, one far off in the distance, the tens and thousands of stars that exist between here and th’on.

What do you mean that was it? Are you going to tell us more stories?

No, I’m not going to tell you more stories. Not now. Not after everything we’d been thru, and such.

Can you give us a good answer on why we’re all trying to figure out what’s next?

Why? Why waste your time with that? You’re going to be brain-befuddled before it ever even happens, you’ll be thinking so hard on what could happen that, when it does, you’ll flip inside-out, like one of those new animals on TV, that does everything.

I’ve never seen an animal flip inside-out or do everything.

Listen, kids, I’ve been telling you stories by this little pond in the clay for nearly the last three years. I’m pretty sure you can figure it out. If you can’t then–

sudden loudness overtook them all

Hey kids, I gotta go. Great? Great! Thanks, good luck with everything!

and they drifted off, a-peace of the bedsides of the minds of sleep that were the rest, some something that almost ne’er quite was, the whole time. it loosened the whole brick house, the pavement felt better, the trees sung, wild times indeed, the birds annoyingly screamed to one another about it while we were all trying to keep it on the hush-hush. Flying is not that big of a deal, when you get down to it. Imagine what you’d have to look like if you were going to just flap it up everywhere, srsly, we’d all be guzzling cola by that point, just to stay in the air.

Unless you want to be small like birds, too. Ha! Good luck with whatever