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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3675 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention The Last Quadrille Michael Julius Sottak Moxie, this is Miss South China Sea. Miss China Sea, meet Moxie. They eye each other as women often do. The jealousy is palpable. The moon lifts a wary eye. The wind defers. Last night Miss China knocked Moxie on her butt, her skirts flew up in wild frothing wind as she spun on her keel and ran. Tonight they stare at each other, determined. Let the dance begin. The moon ducks beneath the clouds. The stars go away. From the safety of darkness, the wind blows a shroud-whistling song. Moxie wants her finest attire. Johann winks, let's run up her staysail. She slices through Miss China on a mad midnight run, pitching, rolling, snorting like a wild horse. The only things visible are green fireflies laughing in her wake. |
