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Shawn Story: The orange flowers

At my 18th birthday party, That Idiot Shawn walked into the lake. Then he tried to dry his shirt out over the fire. Then, he threw the shirt back into the lake.

"What did I do that for?" he asked, wading out to get it.
"It was on fire," I pointed out.
"It was not on fire!" he objected.
"I could see the flames, Shawn."
"Those were not flames! They were ... little orange flowers. Yeah."

sionainn called for entertainment, preferably featuring fire, squirrels, or bonky flashlights, so I went for the fire.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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