Hallow Canvas.
You will have seen it shut.
Traumatized.
Mortified.
In muck.
Realizing it's the only combatant of it's astronaut collection.
The real slow of the slow.
Hired to build a balloon palace in plastic.
Wavering.
Hovering in total silence.
Though it doesn't know any better.
Still.
You cut it's head off.
Taste the innards.
Tastes like cinnamon on a yellow rustic cup.
I think it's going to be ok.
We just need a little hug.
Garrett Johnson.
Floyd took my pink socks.