"It builds character."
Which character?
There is one way glass where waves pass through and bounce back to the wave itself, leading at the elbow. Before the wave was the welcome, a ribbon of arms enlaced and untwined. Before the knotted bodies turned the wheel beneath the watchtower, a mountain range slumped just an inch.
"Some sleep their time."
Sleep how?
Every morning dawns with an ache, a pang of wheresomeness and shallow water. The ankles, out of virtue, forgive the feet for being clean. Where will we sleep? In the middle of the road. Yellow as pin-stripes.
