We look to the stars.

The robots ventured into a polluted world to heal it.

“We’ve got, little chimeras?”

No smell of salt as sails billow in a hot night’s breeze.

I’ve heard red fragment stories: Just one touch. Like magic.

“Can ham roll?” the wizard said. “Roll ham can!”

Her lithe arm embraces him from behind. The other unbinds her hair.

He leaps, scale and wing the color of dark emerald.