Whitefish River Every Sunday's getting more bleak

He was minding his business when a blimp passed overhead. By blimp, I mean Speedy - and by overhead, I mean she walked right up to him and blocked his path, but that was totally fine. She dropped some borage on the earth and introduced herself, meanwhile, Raimo was staring. She was, quite possibly, the prettiest thing he'd ever seen in his life. Shades of warm chocolate and toasty espresso brown meshed across her coat, with cream swirling down her cheeks; he was struck by the composition and couldn't quite find his bearings.

Obviously he was new, and she'd pointed that out. The air hung thickly between them, humid and claustrophobic, but maybe it was also Raimo's star-struck stare that added to it. After a lengthy pause he unravelled his twisted tongue and said, What're your brother's and sister's names then? Sleepy, Snappy, Punchy 'n' Pretty? He hadn't meant it to be offensive but after the fact, he knew it sounded a little snide - oops.

A low laugh pealed from him, deepening with time, becoming a boom. Aye, sorry miss. No harm meant - yes, I am new. Name's Raimo!