59 / 198
59
“Nothing,” murmurs Jacob, and grimacing chews the carrot,
cream, potato and pickle mixture that he hates the taste of.
“If there were a chance, I’d throw it all out the window.’ But
Jacob wins over time, and soon the celebrant takes care of
the rich morsels of cake and clinks his lemonade glass as he
empties it.
“Now, children. Let’s have games.”
“Thank you auntie for the cake!” the achiever of a two in
math throws in.
Jacob gets some gravy on his hands and calls: “Mama, my
hands
are
dirty.
I’ll
go
wash
them!”
Mama become suspicious and says with irritation: “All
right, but quickly! Because you’re the birthday boy!”
Jacob rushes out in a run, and he is so awaited. The tarry
Sun calls: “Master, master help!” Jacob looks in the mirror.
A merciless slaughter is taking place there.
The personages have come to a place by the sea. Desert
fights, brandishing fists against a sandy plain that has
sucked up the sea. Of course, the desert drives sand, but
the plain puts forth dunes, that catch, but don’t reach the
weaker places. Suddenly desert mixes up dunes with camel
silhouettes and fashions a false hook, which reaches the
snout of the plain. “Hurrah, hurrah! Got you!” Plain shakes,
because it was a forceful blow, snout starts bleeding, dunes
trickle, thick with seaweed. Desert has success with a few