Nov 14, 2010 00:37
A warm hand is taken into mine from a garden shaded by concrete Soviet dragons. Pigs and rabbits are fed the barley and the cereal and the humans eat all sorts of meats and bread drowned in milk that floated blueberries like small islands. The mushroom picking is beautiful and winters are spent sewing shining, neverending webs.
An embroidered bird has flown from his home in the fabric.