With morning coat and top hat gracefully posed, the gnarled hermit and his dainty fairy dalliance in the hirsute urban scape. Barouche upon carriage upon lone horseman canter by. Threads shoot athwart and through the dewy affair, bolstering impressionist joists with futurist weave, and integrating the blot-patterned parisian evening with over-ruffled elegance and restraint.
Nearby, with tome and scrolls gathered, a skittish elf heads out toward a gigantic palace, leaving a shady street behind, barely noticing the air awash with cloudy angels, unsure if meta-differences will obliterate the galaxy, but certain that post and lintel construction will buttress the confounded bay whose sailboats and sunny foam still flash upon the inward eye when unfolding terrain melts into showers and gloom.
Technology abandoned, employment forgotten, intellect but a whisper, they frolick all the night.
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