Post by account_disabled on Dec 13, 2023 23:08:07 GMT -6
Time seemed to stop in the cold of the North Pole. The snow began to fall, soft plumes of ice settling on the long white expanses, as the factory buildings were renovated and the machinery put back into operation. A call had been given and the rapid footsteps of numerous hooves could already be heard from afar approaching the house. Burlap sacks lay ready on thirteen rebuilt sleds, filled to the brim. When the thirteen brothers finished their work, the reindeer were already pawing in the winter night. β Children of Winter . βIt's time to go,β Stekkjastaur said. Crystallized darkness enveloped the silent land, petrifying the breath and crumbling the last coils of will.
And as the dreams extended like offshoots of cerebral energy, the Race began. Search, Target and Deliver. It's still. Countless times in that timeless night, infinitesimal lapse, at neuronal speeds Phone Number Dataalong the orbital ellipse and along meridians and parallels, the planet's network. They moved. The sleds filled with dense, massless objects, atomized one after the other, the narrow space curved and redefined. The huge antlers shining with frozen snow, the reindeer shook their heads, waiting. They snorted again. They mounted the sleds, thirteen ghosts of cosmic shadow, glacial orcs traveling along the curves of time. He stretched out his little hands towards the copper pot. She was too high. He took a straw chair, climbed onto it, and held out his hand again.
He grabbed it. She was ruined, but for cooking vegetables it was fine. He went down again. He placed the pot on the stove and went to get the cauliflowers. In the silence of the evening he began to cut them. Tac . Tac . Tac . Monorhythmic, like a dull dance, the sound spread through the cold emptiness of the room. The small hand rose, the knife with the dark wooden handle held in its light grip, and lowered itself on the flowers. Tac . Tac . Tac . It was snowing outside. Giljagaur cracked his whip in the freezing air. On the freezing ground, the reindeer's paws kicked up ice crystals and solid snow. Spitting out clouds of hot air, they began running before lifting off the ground. The whip tore through the night again. Over time, a crack opened, a tear in the continuum of Arctic reality. Thirteen sleds separated from the permafrost, floating into the dreamlike stratosphere of the night.
And as the dreams extended like offshoots of cerebral energy, the Race began. Search, Target and Deliver. It's still. Countless times in that timeless night, infinitesimal lapse, at neuronal speeds Phone Number Dataalong the orbital ellipse and along meridians and parallels, the planet's network. They moved. The sleds filled with dense, massless objects, atomized one after the other, the narrow space curved and redefined. The huge antlers shining with frozen snow, the reindeer shook their heads, waiting. They snorted again. They mounted the sleds, thirteen ghosts of cosmic shadow, glacial orcs traveling along the curves of time. He stretched out his little hands towards the copper pot. She was too high. He took a straw chair, climbed onto it, and held out his hand again.
He grabbed it. She was ruined, but for cooking vegetables it was fine. He went down again. He placed the pot on the stove and went to get the cauliflowers. In the silence of the evening he began to cut them. Tac . Tac . Tac . Monorhythmic, like a dull dance, the sound spread through the cold emptiness of the room. The small hand rose, the knife with the dark wooden handle held in its light grip, and lowered itself on the flowers. Tac . Tac . Tac . It was snowing outside. Giljagaur cracked his whip in the freezing air. On the freezing ground, the reindeer's paws kicked up ice crystals and solid snow. Spitting out clouds of hot air, they began running before lifting off the ground. The whip tore through the night again. Over time, a crack opened, a tear in the continuum of Arctic reality. Thirteen sleds separated from the permafrost, floating into the dreamlike stratosphere of the night.