The Really Real

[troof_therry]

Just north of Dingle, before the first rays of sunshine crack the horizon, the bleating of a nightmare sheep crashes up and down the grassy hills, pulsating its own epitaph that goes ceaselessly unfulfilled. The song seems to be over only to start again every day, every morning. One could normally hear the crow of roosters at that time, but their

Comments

[rayaso]

This was wonderful! I love the Bureau, and the way its mission gets carried out, especially cutting old folk out of the wallpaper. This was great!

[murielle]

You had me with the piper!

This is thoroughly delightful! And fills my Scottish soul with mirth.

Mercy buckets as my late grandfather used to say. ;-)

[elderwoodpixie]

[elderwoodpixie]

More! More! I want to read more about the adventures of Brask and the Bureau. Very good work!

[estelle]

Wow, haha, that is mean!