Faded Houses Green

Melancholy cheered up the fancy vapors of a streetlight named aspire, while a tooth hound gave Billie a reeking cuttlefish for the return of uncertain flavors of the month down by the waterfront docks.

Billie, having only three houndstooth trilbies but nothing in the way of grand tooth hound, bewildered the nuisant stranger with a caterwauling unfit for a truculent nightmare. A fanfare for the uncommon folds of bristles perched high above the chimney sweep, flighty gauges of chocolate steam stemmed the tide rolling along the coast toward the neverlasting strand and the strandcastles built thereon.

But Billie? Billie could do no more than anyone else in her perilous situation, having only pearls to throw and only swine to throw them at. Strings of black pearls arose in the heat of the night and set about tying the swine in a fine mesh strainer.

Composed in her newfound composure, Billie found grace in the eye of the beer holder who sang about a hatpin gnawing at his cozy.