Listen to the wind rush through the trees, watch it ripple over the water.

Soon the big red robot steams through the wood, to the mossy shore, and sits. He casts a weary eye at the water and motionless remains.

As the big red robot watches the water, a purple iris nearby opens, and out peeks a little winged fairy. While the robot is motionless still, the fairy climbs atop his ruddy head, laughing, dances a little jig.

Dance and laugh, little fairy, and sit, big red robot, along the shores of the Lethe!

Poseidon's Non-Adventure

I guess it all started when Captain Winterbottomsmythe murdered Lady Fitzmattering on the Southern croquet court one nice day in May.

It all went downhill from there. The butcher when belly-up, the green-grocer was chased from town for being a commie sympathizer, and the newspaper (only one in town) was deep in the red.

Soon our little village was a wreck, and everyone treated everyone else with suspicion and little whispered threats under their breath.

The Winterbottomsmythes loomed bitterly over the whole shebang, unaware of the many ghosts that were on their way to haunt the joint.

* * *

From his point of vantage above the lonely village, Gerald tossed another paper airplane into a gust of wind. The wind picked it up and hurled it clumsily back over Gerald's head and over behind him somewhere. Gerald took spoonful of soup and began folding another.

* * *

Underneath the ocean, Poseidon puffed on a bubble pipe, and scratched his beard.