#universalbond

Part One: Volga's Bucket of Potatoes

Alas! She has finally awoken before the tantalizing crow honks its pesky beak

Per the norm breakfast be quick

Eggs, dabble of cheese, toast and jelly. 

No coffee today

Her funds were low

But the potatoes proved profitable this year

Up the hill towards the secret potato oasis

The hill was steep for the old broad

She makes it up in good time

Breath full enough for one bucket full of harvest

By the end her dress was browned with dirt soaking in sweat

She heaves the bucket of fresh profit over her head with a groan

Arriving at the edge of the hill the ground begins to rumble.

Volga stopped walking and noticed it was not from her beastly brow

A silver object in the sky begun to hover towards her pasture

She had never seen such a thing

It scared her enough to faint

And down the hill went Volga and her potatoes 

Part Two: Volga and Her Potatoes; The Aftermath

Oh, they tumble, and you bestow the sight of the.

Oh, Volga, she bounces on down in a dollop of sadness; Volga and her potatoes.

A river of tears for each potato squashed by her heavy rump, but poor Volga in a fault not her own.

Ought we all drop at the sight; for like nothing ever to pass over the land, none but the birds drift these skies.

Round and silver; delusion of our delinquencies-and it’s all to pass her mind as she rolls down the hill in her dismay. 

But all to be; she holds only to be a beastly broad, a potato farmer harrowing in her own.

But of course an issue alien to her beliefs would present itself to her; the least expected of her worries. 

Volga never concerned herself with the thought she could one day be chased by a creature so odd.

And so it goes the tale I’ll love to tell, Volga, her potatoes, and a slimy green man tumbling down a hill.

In triumph all that she could have won; mashed potatoes snow-balled to her massive brow. 

Part Three: Volga and The Slimy Green Man

Just curiosity; intrigued in this being.

Mechanically similar in a brief gawk; he was uncharacteristically small with slime oozing his pores.

But, Volga, so terrifyingly large; she hyperventilates in her dirt potato dress. 

The unannounced creature, so harmlessly, peeks around the barn.

Beyond the shrieks, the habitual bond comes about.

So he raises his narrow black eyes, baffled at the size of this human; endeared by her loving heart…

Underneath the potatoes and dirt her heart beats strong and they lock eyes.

Oh the galaxies they have seen, these narrow black eyes; Volga smiles bright.

But of course they would share the mysteries of these bright lives they lead. 

And so Volga learns the irrelevancy of fear; nonexistent in the life of a curious soul.