Logos: Once a centaur asked a doe, are you my foe? The doe smiled and then said: Abre-los-ojos–I am a figment of your imagination!
Zaza: Master Logos! How pleasant to see you this morning! A wayward reindeer, accosted a man without fear, it had an emblem on its forehead which read ‘interactive fiction,’ the man had misplaced diction, for all his predictions immediately came to happen. The dream had a ring and a fairy, a school where they celebrated his arrival–one who was new there and fogged. His daze didn’t let him call olden cubs and bears but he found himself getting converted into a pettifogger, gossip monger.
L: A child used to see same dream day-after-day. Once he stopped and asked the dream: why do you keep coming back? The dream said: it’s not that I particularly like visiting you, for I’ve many other things to do, but I am supposed to be your fate, I’m already late, in delivering goods, which I brought from the woods, now let me do my job, get a bob and tie this bib under your chin, no need for pin, else you would choke, let me slightly poke–how does the dream know what you looked like, when you were afraid of your bike, how did the flavored spice scored a ton? They outdid your expectation, trials and tribulation. Continue reading “Bardo!”