The paleographer arrived at the excavation site late in the evening: an orange sun was burning through the desert's hazy horizon and coloring her decollete cocktail dress with its waning rays -- a quotidian event made special with her audience -- while around her the last shift of laborers raised paper champagne glasses in toast and nictitated enticingly as she strode by.
Rising slowly from his perch along the boulder-strewn cirque, the old man batted away the xenodochial mosquitos and advised his young granddaughter that such sweet smelling attar was probably not the wisest choice of hiking accessories.
The stolid bear looked up from his fresh kill to watch a mischievous crow bouncing jauntily along the esker toward him, piercing the air as he went with his squawking koans.
Panting heavily, the glittered face of the thespian lit up with a vainglorious smile after completing the final act -- it was an inescapable reaction to the traversal of a single memory, standing out in his mind like an unscratched yeuk, where his harridan of a mother stood defiantly in the kitchen exclaiming "An actor?! You better eighty-six those plans right now mister -- what producer would ever hire such a sullen boy as yourself?!"
The cheechako rustler was easily marked by his moth-eaten mantle and jejune contributions to the pre-ride colloquy.
With a meretricious smile the besotted nief bowed his head, hiccuped once and shuffled aside, serving only to stoke the passing lord's inchoate rage at such outright casuistry.
The harried mother chased her two rambunctious boys across the bistro, adjuring the elder to return the baguette he pilfered from the fulsome feast laid out on the neighboring table, but he paid no heed and busticated it happily over his brother's head.
The man lay silently, alone but composed, sifting one last time through life's friable memories, aware of the dark psychopomp beginning to dance in the edges of his vision, whose dusty voice incanted that ancient bait and switch: "Give me thine essence, and ye shall feel the rest of a thousand ages, content and secure in His behemoth embrace!"
Past parlaying of powerful partnership positions left the arrogant artificers irrefutably ignored at the their own potlatch.
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