The universe was a ball of wool and now you bring me soup.

Oh, ‘Happy Birthday’ Dearest Today you’re forty-one We’re glad to see you’ve kept your looks And contagious sense of fun I’m glad your upper arms Are still firm and well defined

Invaders of cyberspace have taken control . Greedy guts taking big bites .

Story 4 of the Babel series.

Late Evening, Wilday the 13th of Vanger, 658 AG (After Godswar) A small village on the western coast of the Kingdom of Arcadia Toshiko Ren had just sat down in front of a roaring fire and was savouring the aroma of a freshly brewed cup of tea when someone knocked on the door.

Alone sitting in the moonlight, alone in the gadding starlight In the grass of wrath I am kneeling Perhaps crying and agonising my painful unbearing Why must she go in death a-sailing?

An Evening filled with humid air Is the setting of this poem As my heart reeled with romance to her That vile vision of an astounding angelic maiden Oh, how long have I gazed at her!

Sunset of deep december, a slumber for sweet summer A shining and beautiful dagger appeared as a lady; She was sublime like the gods of olympus; She shook the verge of the hole of my sanity;

Rakan Alrak never saw it coming...not until it was too late...