Faded Houses Green

Dilapidated rocks twisted around the old oak tree in the name of thirteen dolphins swimming through smudged seas.

Ruby took her love to the city of broken hearts, the village of crying idiots, the planet of headless nymphs–whether in orisons or else the play’s the thing. Ruby drank her tea with bits of Rudy’s observations thrown in for good measure, for Rudy could perform the renewal of observations under almost any circumstance–circumspect or circumlocutionary.

Famous druids and headless nymphs announced their fealty to the long future of the partnership of Ruby and Rudy–Ruby with the ruddy cheeks and Rudy with the rubby cheeks–rubbed pale by his ludicrous Aunt Hyacinth, who knew nothing about planting–much less growing–hyacinths. Ruby’s spoon ceased to stir the cream into the tea, but Rudy could stir the cream into a bucket of tar spoonless.

The old oak tree with the rock cummerbund put the heads back on the nymphs two-by-two, and the four orisons were borne forevermore.