Mark Rothko Green Red on Orange

Mark Rothko Green Red on OrangeMark Rothko Blue Green and Brown 1951Mark Rothko Blue Green and BrownAlfred Gockel Stroking the KeysAlfred Gockel Moved By The Music V
firing messages up her spine, insidiously insisting that in those long fangs and bandy legs was everything a troll girl could wish for in a mate.
Trolls like Rock or Morry, of course, were far more modern and could do things like use a knife and fork, but there was Maybe this make-up the girls had been talking about could be worth a try.
She sighed, blew out the lamp, opened the door and stepped out into a maze of roots.
A gigantic tree stretched the whole length of the alley. He must have dragged it for miles. The few surviving branches poked through windows or waved forlornly in the air.
In the middle of it all was Detritus, perched proudly on the trunk, his face split in a watermelon grinsomething, well, reassuring about Detritus. Perhaps it was the way his knuckles touched the ground so dynamically. And apart from anything else, she was sure she was brighter than he was. There was a sort of gormless unstoppability about him that she found rather fascinating. That was the instincts at work again -intelligence has never been a particularly valuable survival trait in a troll. And she had to admit that, whatever she might attempt in the way of feather boas and fancy hats, she was pushing 140 and was 400 lbs above the fashionable weight. If only he’d buck his ideas up. Or at least, buck one idea up.