With a Chance o’ Reciprocation

The ne’er thought to look for her in the clouds.

Otherwise, they looked everywhere: in all the grasses, all the holes in every tree, in every dirt divot, under every mushroom. But they ne’er thought she’d glide in in her parachute ‘hind the clouds–& now ’twas too late. By the time they did see her, she’d already be near.

Wasabi Woods got wise, & that was the problem. Then Worchestershire got wise, & the problem multiplied.

But Whisky Woods always solved their problems, & that was why she was here now.


Cloudy, Inside, Parachute