Faded Houses Green

Reading Ulysses in Montana #359

Believing not being enough anymore, the shaken fossils stirred the slurred speech of empty peaches from deepest Hungarian revolts.

Whether the particles laughed longest or not, only Mary knew, but bowls of sleep and examples of rendered ironies gave Mary enough courage to don the iron strings and contemplate the solidity of pure fate. Marvin said he would have gone about it entirely differently, but destiny unraveled into bellows of rosemary, and Mary changed her name to Rose Marie to spite Marvin and his boring antics. Attics of gentle mavens turned maidens into blushing goddesses with ravens of jollity and necessity.

But the stirred fossils were still not warm enough to believe in, so the peaches delighted in the rhapsodies of Rose Marie’s darkest Hungarian dreams.