As the clouds rolled by, I wondered
What if they were floating palaces, or great machines?, gears of hydrogen thumping to the beat of the crystalline steam engine ensconced within its silver-lined depths; and I dreamed that one day a ramp is extended to me through the fog of the early morning, and it carries me up through the sky, and I watch as a pen falls from my pocket, and right as the foamy grey door closes behind me, and I see a princess of the clouds, and she's blindingly beautiful, cerulean skin, and blazing sky eyes, and when she pulls out a cigar from her overalls, in the hazy, smoky air of the too-solid room, my spirits fall like my pen when her mouth framed in yellowed teeth rumbles out in the voice of the head foreman, and I sigh. My dream worlds never seem to work out right, but my sigh attracts the attention of the girl sitting across from me, and our eyes meet and we smile, and I think to myself that I don't really need dream worlds, and I think about my life as it is, and my house on the giant red turtle Magorl, and my flying pet tree, and the girl sitting across from me, delicate cranial tentacles of red and orange, that catch my eye as they bioluminesce into the congealing dark, and I decide that my ordinary life is good enough.
What if they were floating palaces, or great machines?, gears of hydrogen thumping to the beat of the crystalline steam engine ensconced within its silver-lined depths; and I dreamed that one day a ramp is extended to me through the fog of the early morning, and it carries me up through the sky, and I watch as a pen falls from my pocket, and right as the foamy grey door closes behind me, and I see a princess of the clouds, and she's blindingly beautiful, cerulean skin, and blazing sky eyes, and when she pulls out a cigar from her overalls, in the hazy, smoky air of the too-solid room, my spirits fall like my pen when her mouth framed in yellowed teeth rumbles out in the voice of the head foreman, and I sigh. My dream worlds never seem to work out right, but my sigh attracts the attention of the girl sitting across from me, and our eyes meet and we smile, and I think to myself that I don't really need dream worlds, and I think about my life as it is, and my house on the giant red turtle Magorl, and my flying pet tree, and the girl sitting across from me, delicate cranial tentacles of red and orange, that catch my eye as they bioluminesce into the congealing dark, and I decide that my ordinary life is good enough.
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