Monday, February 28, 2005

Mechanically, it seems to be fine. The jester turns his head and raises his finger to his lips, he raises and lowers the yellow harlequin, teasing the frog below, who is trying to snag the harlequin with his umbrella, to no avail, no matter how much he wants him, for reasons unknown. The angel peers through the glass, out over the city, then lowers it looking away just in time to miss the harlequin as he passes. 

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