Gardena 1030 Instructions

The ogre laughs

still a little in front of Lily. The fourth wire. The fourth wire was black. Black as pitch. Black as m orte. And Lily was alive would have been afraid even to approach. But Lily was dead. Lily was a ghost. It was no longer afraid of death because the death of reading, she knew, or at least so he thought. But he realized immediately that the fourth wire could hold some surprises, because while continuing to fluctuate felt heavy as lead. She seemed to be grounded even if the soft soil of the lawn was over there, far from his feet and so far that if Lily had a body you would still casts its shadow, as it makes a big cloud in the sky that passes .
Lily did not expect to have to read the death of dreams and illusions. But it was what he did. Because even the ghosts have a destiny and that Lily was to read the stories they wove on the great spider's web. And who knows if it was a spider in writing, the great mother of all spiders that had caressed with phobic insistence, calling back his life every time he seemed to try to get away from her. Until the last final defeat, when even the spiders had to raise the white flag and surrender to death.
And what Lily had read the smell of a path known only beings night and the words were quiet, as something that says the head of a deaf man.

Orc I heard the laughter and the moon is off, as I climbed to the top of the bald
hill on that path of round stones that make count more
the will to reach the top of the steps that you make.

It was not the moon lit the way for me,
was Orc pallor of the face.
It was not the moon was out,
had his mouth open in laughter dark.
And they were not stars, those who now saw shine nel buio, erano i denti dell'Orco.
L'Orco che ingoia i sogni portati dalle civette.
L'Orco che ride delle illusioni.

E mentre scendevo dal sentiero di sassi rotondi,
non contava più la mia volontà.
Ma contavano i passi che facevo.
Quando arrivai a valle non mi voltai a scrutare
il cielo sul colle.
l'Orco ancora rideva.

E mi feci inghiottire dalla notte sulla strada come fosse un mantello che mi copriva le spalle.

La storia del quarto filo si spense come se ogni altro suono fosse possibile, da allora in poi, in un altro mondo. Ma mai più nel mondo di Lily.

Mount Blade Dark Knight Nerden Bulunur

A silver thread

The third thread of silver light shone the moon that he had no part in the luminous phenomenon. Shine on his own, because the moon in the sky of asphalt, when Lily was dead, there was no longer come. Perhaps because of the melancholy ghost of Lily felt tears fill her eyes, the orbits were now a dark lake that a persistent rain was overflowing from the perimeter of the crater, where they usually rocked nothing and some spiders. So Lily
read a story written in words that seemed to dry up just read luminescent and disappear in a magic dust of stars. And the only thing that remained was the wistful memories of the moon.

There was a shadow coming out only at night, rats stretched on the ground and walked all the streets, all in one night. He collected items lost, rejected the calls, the haste and carelessness, the hidden truths from the lies. Every night I was cleaning the streets from the shadow that had been ignored. Until one night he was surprised to pick up the moon. The moon never looked a man. The moon had fallen from the sky, every night more, to be noticed. Because the man he never raised his eyes to the sky and counted the steps for him alone on the earth. When it was found there in the moon's feet had ignored because it did not able to recognize it, so that was not seen. And he no longer even a memory. It thought that the light at night, you just did with the street lamps.
picked up the moon's shadow, pushing forward in the air that stirred in his race against the day approaching. The moon was a burden that even the shadow side eventually abandoned on the street. And even those who, when the day was already full, the moon found the street, he could not recognize it. Without a doubt, even when at night, raising his head, he noticed that it was a moonless night. While the man still did not raise his eyes from his steps, back in the house with closed shutters. As the shadow came back street cleaning the roads that had been ignored, finding the moon where he had left there.

And this was the story of the third wire. The lake was emptied and returned in the dark craters. Lily lost the memory of melancholy, because it is short of the melancholy ghosts. It remains the memory of the moon, as a scar tattoo embellished with silver.