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Writings / South America
« Last post by bahgheera on September 14, 2009, 11:57:43 PM »I was in rowboat on a river somewhere south of Mexico. Possibly somewhere along the border of Peru and Bolivia. The end of the river was where I needed to be, but I wasn't sure if my Peruvian guide could get me there. We came to a narrow spot, when I realized my friend the oak tree, whom I'd known since an acorn, would not be able to continue along with us. I held on to the playing cards that grew at the end of his branches, and as we squeezed through the narrows, I lost my friend. But the playing cards remained in my hand; forty of them. An Italian deck. We picked up the boat to carry it over a stony, shallow area. I noticed that my guide was summoning small colorful birds and other animals that I couldn't quite recognize, and each of these was made of thin tissue paper. As each one descended, I laid a card by it's resting place in the leaves. As I was doing this, I noticed a small spider on my right hand. It bit me, quite like a mosquito, and as I tried to brush it off, another appeared further up my arm. And then another, and another, now three more, then ten, until there were thousands of them covering me, biting, filling me with horror, dread and venom. I screamed at my guide, but he was nowhere to be found. Now how I got out of that predicament, little ones, I'll have to leave to your imagination. For now it is time for me to return to my native land and discuss the strange noises that have been coming from the great stone giant...