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Class is in sessionA woman leaned back in her chair as she soaked up some sunshine, stretching some. Her long red hair waved some in the slight breeze and her yellow swimsuit seemed to fit her like a glove.
Latoya wake up!
Latoya jumped as she awoke from her daydream, looking aorund and hearing some chuckles. "Sorry Miss Mariko." Latoya said, turning a slight shade of red. A woman standing nearby laughed good naturedly, she had frizzy orangeish hair, a pair of white horns, and a white swimsuit. Her defining features were a blue pair of wings, and a long tail with a triangle shape at the end. Mariko was of a race called Bubbleus, which could use their tails in a number of ways, foremost was using it to inject air into someone to inflate them. Mariko was a lifeguard at a beach, and she often taught several other Bubbleus, and other assorted races, in using a special brand of air abilities she'd developed.
Latoya herself was rather unique in this band. She was a Curvampy, a
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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