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Old 04-20-2011, 02:38 PM   #20
piosenniel
Desultory Dwimmerlaik
 
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‘Some pigeon you picked!’ Garan hissed in a whisper to his brother. Goran shrugged his shoulders as he glanced from the proffered sweets to Garan. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his breeches and looked back at the gentleman.

‘Sorry, sir, you’ll have to eat that apple yourself, I guess.’ Goran sighed and looked quite sad at the thought. ‘Me and my brother got nothing to play with.’ He pulled out his pockets, both empty save for a bit of lint, a few old crumbs, and one broken wooden button. Garan pulled out his pockets, too – as empty as those of his brother.

‘And besides, our big brother’d give us both a hiding if he caught us playing games of chance.’ Garan nodded solemnly at this pronouncement.

Goran cocked an ear and furrowed his brow as if just barely catching some sound. ‘It’s Sis,’ he said, elbowing Garan . ‘I think she’s calling us.’

With a nod of their heads to the gentleman, and one last look at the bag of sweets, the two took to their heels and ran off . . . like little mice bent on escaping a wily fox.
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