Geborrin looked up at his son. He was not made like his other children, nor did his bloom come at Geborrin’s approach.
He pointed at the scattered, decaying remains of the blossom. “Is that your flower?”
“No. There is one more.”
–Frederic the Lesser
Geborrin looked up at his son. He was not made like his other children, nor did his bloom come at Geborrin’s approach.
He pointed at the scattered, decaying remains of the blossom. “Is that your flower?”
“No. There is one more.”
–Frederic the Lesser
Creative Mine