The Flying Ship

The Flying Ship

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Cunning Folk

Its five in the morning. I can't sleep. There is something in my ceiling. I think it might be a rat.

I'm going to sleep now.

"And they said, let us make ourselves anew, let us reshape this clay that we are made of, that we may see the night with cunning eyes like that of owls"

I can see them in my mind's eye. Its wonderful.


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