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Vernon waited in line to find a seat for the sorting ceremony. One by one the students were called and sorted. Some didn't mind the house they were placed in, others were confused as to why they were place there. In the end, most students looked forward to their new adventure awaiting them.
"Oh these idiots get excited over pretty much everything." Vernon sighed, as he watched from his seat. "Vernon Madris" was called. Vernon calmly walked up to the front of the room. Students looked around in attempt to find the face the name matched. "Tch." Vernon was too short to be noticed by some.
As he approached the iridescent figure. "Greetings child." She floated down to his height. She wasn't much bigger than he was. "Hi..." Vernon replied. She placed a warm hand on his head. "I will now read you're heart." A warm glow surrounded Vernon and he could feel a presence in his mind. He didn't like this and rebelled mentall
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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