Brilly and Rickel walked through the underbrush toward Kevin Costner and a group of familiar looking men. They were accompanied by three horses, a campset (carried, not dragged), and a nice little old woman from the heart of Cleveland, called “Ginny”. Well, Brilly and Rickel approached the woven Mexican blankets and had to part a curtain of midges before they could see the full shape and size of the familiar looking men sitting with Kevin Costner in the neat little grove of false-cedar. The clear night air was filled with unintelligible muttering and the self-conscious hush of food being brushed off shirt fronts. But despite the fits and starts, only a giant sized hand-ful of moments passed before hearthsongs were being sung, small excursions into the subconscious were being made, “Ginny” from the heart of Cleveland was slung like a saddle-bag over Costner's broad shoulders, and the familiar belly patting men evaporated into milk dust and spur-fur. 48 hours later the Federales were called in and a giant treasure hunt/pasta social, theretofore unknown in those parts, was had by all except Rickel, who had tumbled secretly and fatally into a hidden gully and was only noticed some hours later after an in-group text-message went unanswered.
Michael crawled into the fox glove like he was going headfirst into the bottom of a sleeping bag. Because of his tactile and numerous legs, he was able to fill his tweed satchel with all of the necessary treasures, turn around at the foot of the glove, and fly noisily and flamboyantly back out. He did this five or six times on one stalk, voraciously mining one and then strategically ignoring another. By the time he moved from this one to the next, his legs were warmed by a delightfully thick coat of stardust, or angel powder, or whateveryoucallit. There has been debate – in prestigious academic black holes – over what Michael took from his journeys in and out of the Foxglove. Some argued Plato's theory of forms, others cited Deleuze's concept of the Rhizome to illuminate the decentralized nature of the glove-mining, and still others (those damned Materialists most likely) claimed that Michael, despite taking a Christian name, was simply an automaton incapable of subjective consciousness, acting out his programming until his inevitable obsolescence. For his part, Michael helped things grow and lighted momentarily on a stinky backpack rubbing his legs over his face/snout/thing before taking off and hovering over something else for a while.
The LaForge Shaft led upwards, past a dense thicket and along a rubble-lined corridor. It saw its heaviest use during the Great Rubber Tumble of the '20's, where cobblers, fruitstones, and blondehaired children mingled freely without prejudice and dined on at least three varieties of Haeliocampthus, the albino strongworm. The Shaft was known to be especially vibrant during early June--Northern Hemisphere--when strong breezes raked its surface like a grounds crew and shuffled all of the interesting little rocks into minute astrological configurations like Taurus-in-the-shopping-center, Cancer-in-the-retirement-village, and Sagittarius-among-bathing-oxen, all of the most popular combos and predictions, etc. But November was a completely different picture as adolescents slipped down it's icy surface on granary-pellets and bookkeepers slept soundly beside the Hatch's southernmost corridor dreaming the dreams of the local yolk-brokers who'd been spared a trip for this very reason. The Hatch was closed for maintenance during August of last year. A date hasn't yet been set for it to reopen.
Peanut/Jelly Thumb – So named due to its appearance and texture inside of bread. This all-season animal, first discovered and probably invented by Hamson Valariom of Fort Worth, Cherrysmith Road, is a sly, slimy creature not known for its good humour. *It lives in a taxonomic bracket not to be named here, but if you check my exhaustive footnotes you'll find an anthology that it's probably inside of. The Jelly Thumb is usually found in naturally occurring patches of ground chips. These chips are baked by the sun and can be made of starches, organic vegetables, or some kind of crisped fat. It's up to them how they do it. The Jelly Thumb is attracted to the crisp warmness of newly growing chips and embeds itself inside of them as one would do when trying to board a plane by sneaking under luggage and riding the cart into the cargo hold. It breeds occasionally, but only if the mood is right, and weighs approximately 345 ounces (unfrozen) and retains a lot of water. Despite it's humour, the Jelly Thumb makes for a wonderful midnight companion , sleeps five full-sized adults, and starts right away in winter unlike your other cars. Please keep in mind however that the Jelly Thumb will not take you from here to there, nor will it bring you back. Despite it's peanut-like consistency, it will not 'carry you a ways'. Don't sneak up on this animal while it is nursing young. Do not fabricate synthetic groves in order to cultivate the Jelly Thumb.
This final natural phenomenon comes to you in riddle form: what is orange and moves slowly? WHO! How does the Valerian Root get its name? WHERE?! From the stomach to the knee-wing to the hippocampus: name the RATE? How many flamptins does it take to reach the cardamom bracket? One or THREE! What groans under the weight of useless inertia? HM? WHO notices the soldiers as they walk through a downy fen surrounded by January stars? Use your POWER! Who first came up with a plate of homemade HOMMUS? WHAT? Three times eternity is five plus WHEN? What is the smell of smelling? SURELY it has a smell! Can you think of the entire reason for jackfruit search engines, or can't you understand the proper logarithm? Here's a hint: SLINE! And finally, for the ultimate clue: where will you find your last supper? Because THAT'S where you'll find this mystery opportunity. Good luck(s)
*Refer it
