My Steampunk Romance or Forty Days and Forty Nights
My Steampunk Romance or Forty Days and Forty Nights
by Me
In a house on a cliff by the sea there lived a boy who didn't know how to stay out of trouble. If you'd known his father you would have understood how fitting that was. The boy had a cat, an orange marmalade named September, who was born in October, and lived on a street named November. Now the boy's father, as I mentioned before if you'd have known him you would have understood the boy's penchant for finding trouble. Doctor Malcolm Torrente Ballester was an inventor, and in the cellar of that house that the boy, Mario was never allowed to go where the dust covered remnants of his metallic machines, his porcelain dolls that ran on clockwork, the pieces of his giant mechanized robot, on the walls tacked were the more ambitious and room needy plans for a world boring machine, a submersible with tentacles capable of withstanding the deepest reaches known to man and further. Doctor Malcom Torrente Ballester also worked in the town below the hill, the little industrial port town of Oil the valves. It was raining that day, the day they told Mario that his father's dirigible had disappeared flying over the sargasso sea, likely it was the work of air pirates.
That night while Mario slept, he dreamt of airships and storms, talking squids, rainbows, and and in his dream a field of flowers, a girl in a sunbonnet, and the airship rising over the horizon his father valiantly sword fighting a group of pirates. It all disappeared like watercolors running and he saw a light and realized someone walking in to his room, the whisper of a felt kiss on his cheek and his mother saying goodbye and her hands persinandolo before she walked out of the room. In the morning he woke up to find Tio Homero waiting in the living room to take him home to stay with him until his mother returned. Maria Santos Torrente Ballester had gone in search of her husband. The rifle above the mantelpiece was testament to that. So Mario barely nine went to live with his uncle.
by Me
In a house on a cliff by the sea there lived a boy who didn't know how to stay out of trouble. If you'd known his father you would have understood how fitting that was. The boy had a cat, an orange marmalade named September, who was born in October, and lived on a street named November. Now the boy's father, as I mentioned before if you'd have known him you would have understood the boy's penchant for finding trouble. Doctor Malcolm Torrente Ballester was an inventor, and in the cellar of that house that the boy, Mario was never allowed to go where the dust covered remnants of his metallic machines, his porcelain dolls that ran on clockwork, the pieces of his giant mechanized robot, on the walls tacked were the more ambitious and room needy plans for a world boring machine, a submersible with tentacles capable of withstanding the deepest reaches known to man and further. Doctor Malcom Torrente Ballester also worked in the town below the hill, the little industrial port town of Oil the valves. It was raining that day, the day they told Mario that his father's dirigible had disappeared flying over the sargasso sea, likely it was the work of air pirates.
That night while Mario slept, he dreamt of airships and storms, talking squids, rainbows, and and in his dream a field of flowers, a girl in a sunbonnet, and the airship rising over the horizon his father valiantly sword fighting a group of pirates. It all disappeared like watercolors running and he saw a light and realized someone walking in to his room, the whisper of a felt kiss on his cheek and his mother saying goodbye and her hands persinandolo before she walked out of the room. In the morning he woke up to find Tio Homero waiting in the living room to take him home to stay with him until his mother returned. Maria Santos Torrente Ballester had gone in search of her husband. The rifle above the mantelpiece was testament to that. So Mario barely nine went to live with his uncle.