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These galligaskins were moist and rich with the scents of his unwashed traveller’s feet

He dropped one ball in his lap and tore at the other one till he ripped it into pieces in the more worn and rotted places, the feet and inner calves He stuffed a piece into his h the holes in the knitting He put his hand up to his mouth so that he could breathe out upon his palm, and inhale

His eyes were shut in rapture when the moon came up A sibilance made him open them

Some fish had coed themselves with their tails to the river and their eyes toward hiaskin that he had torn into pieces It was not an easy thing to chew Though rot softened it, particularly underfoot, its yarn caught between his teeth This slowed his greed

The h to the lu the as he never had--with such joy, and sadness that there was only so much to this meal The fish took no liberties, nor made any sounds that he could hear, but they must have communicated some way, for soon the bank was so covered with fish, each head pointing in his direction, that he choked

The first stocking, the one that held extra savour at its crusty top froulped the last stitch of, but he could not eathis eyes

He ripped the top of the undevoured hose with his teeth so that the knit unravelled on his tongue Sing his excess saliva and his appetite, he pulled the knitting asunder and made a yarn ball, as the fishes watched Then he stood up, naked as he was born Walking ast them, he broke the yarn into pieces and dropped a piece into each of the uplifted hting aive each fish a portion, he had to break the yarn into shorter and shorter pieces When he had fed the last fish, the one whose tail lay in the river, he was unsure what to do The fishes watched him, but if they’d turned their heads away he wouldn’t have been able to see himself in so many mirrors There he stood on a riverbank--unclothed and without a coin of any realm

Why did I take thathis tripe-white knees with both his fists till all were red as a maiden’s lips Who should know better the value of what is free? He didn’t ask the fishes, of course, any more than he would have asked a mirror They reht’s wished-for audience as Werold hit hirass The only sound was the slooosh of gill-ly vacant-eyed, till suddenly he slapped his head "I know!" He scrarass and mud from his skinny backside, and did a little dance "Thethree times "Valued as most blessed" stamp stamp stamp "what medlars wish"

Werold’s deliberations had led him to this conclusion: Any erbread if only it could, for that is almost how a bletted medlar smells, but never quite

Every hed, an action this uht, that goodnatured ination, as it travels in the shoes of the traveller it told the way to happiness Whether the erbread is all for everyone, is so Werold didn’t try to fathoht forward The fish had eaten his galligaskin kickshaith the sareeable "We do agree!" he said, expecting not a wriggle of understanding, not a blink of their lidless eyes

For noas tio nowhere naked, but could not bring himself to don the litter on this land "Perhaps you’ll find me tasty," he said to them, "you poor creatures who have never tasted worufier will be no ht as calmly as he could, as his nose met the water He could not swim, so hoped his end would come before he lost his mind

His toes touched the soft thick bottom of the river, but only once Every fish ainst his chin, hit his chest and legs and back They flayed the water fro tails and fins One big fish slipped under his feet and flung him free of the river He sailed into the air and tu, he grabbed that fish’s fin It turned its head back toward hi a sate

The fishes would not let his head slip into the river, but they pushed hian a procession in which each fish rubbed against him backwards, and they rubbed him everywhere below his head, from his neck to the undersides of his feet Soon he was as covered with a thick coat of scales as they, though the arrangey and slovenly next to the tight, neat patterns on the fish

His coat and leggings needed constant adjustment, but the fish took care of that His new profession--and the fishes greatly looked up to hireat unexplored river where he pulled the wor hole If there was a fishermen’s net poised to throw upon the river, Werold stood up, on a long sinuous fish’s back (this was the only treat the fishes still squabbled for) and dazzled and inti raiment Whenever fishermen saw the wondrous man of the river with their own eyes--the man as coated in a fish’s rainbowed mail--they rushed to their huts and then back to the river, where every fishers The waters swirled the ’s knuckles, roasted hens, buttons and buckles and belts, soft slippers, and the lees of ale The action of leaping fishes and man was so looped and wet and active that no one could say for certain whether the ed landlivers watched, drool-ht in the house of every civil citizen who saw that the h it be new as the old-embroidered shirts to hose as fine as spider webs On fine streets, it was irizzle, answer their ladies’ cries with sharp replies; and kick their dogs, and moan and keen and weep

In rude huts, fishers were rich enough; whether the visitors had gone their way sated or having left a curse upon the nets

The glittering vision on the river, the unattainably clothed hting to sighting--left fashion in a leap

So this is almost the end of this true story, except for what I pass to you

At night, those days, only scoundrels and the wretched were not in bed at houments flahts the one they called Silverlips was seen to sit on the back of a fish, spouting a streah, every loud-ht have ereat greeaaaaat grandfather, a wretched poet, watched the fire and held his tongue, but while others were sleeping, he’d slip to the riverbank and cup his hands around his ears The river was slow and deep, never a babbler, so when one violet dawn he heard a drone, he kneas Silverlips He caught the strea from the river, answered back in like, and penned the story with the quill he carried, and his own hot blood A fine procreator, he passed down his talents and this tale

Avant-n00b

Nick Ma frequently, but never so powerfully as the ti and Pony on Guadalupe It was a weird interstitial moment--the owner, Star, was in the back and Olivia was the only customer in the usually crowded store She didn’t even knohat she was looking at, and had nobody to ask, but was sure the ite post Olivia was fashionn00b, her blog was fashionn00bnet, and its slogan was "Clothes Blogging Live From Austin--We’re the America of Texas!" It was her father’s joke, and Olivia had appropriated it the way she had liberated any number of her mother’s old dresses and shoes from the early 1990s, after moarers Its lines and folds were crazy Was it so, but with sleeves, and in a half-faded black with a silvery lace gimp, instead of the more typical patterns and plaids of Asia? Anyway it was only ten bucks, and according to NextBusco now!, so she decided that it was hers Olivia left two crumpled five-dollar bills on the counter, shouted back to Star, "Hey, I bought the iers!" and ran out of the store, with the garment in her ar her back, didn’t see Star leaning out the door to shout, "No, wait, not that thing!" She slareasy hair on the corner, y as she ran, and just made it