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2006-08-23 05:55:05 ET Little Tim sat on the edge of the cliff with the calm of the ocean wave whispers below and gazed at the starry ocean sky with his oversized binoculars. As he slowly scanned the perforated heavens he caught glimpse of a large zeppelin, far up above, painted a rich green color. It was dropping flares, little sparks of flame, away from itself like a mother releasing its young. Little Tim smiled. It was beautiful. He had no way of knowing that a plague had spread upon the emerald air ship and that the crew was desperately cremating the victims and throwing them overboard while they still burned for faint hope of stopping the spread of crimson infection... |
