A little of my own

Once upon a time, there was a river, and a field, and a great green pipe. Wertle emerges from the pipe for the second time and approaches Siddhartha, who is tending to his ferry.

“Is it my turn to be the ferryman?”

“No, you haven’t even left the city yet.”

“But…but I used the whistle!” She waves it desperately in the air.

“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t count.”


“Why so disappointed? You knew that before you came.”

”Yeah, I know.”

“At least there are no Cyclopes in this version.”


Wertle climbs back into the pipe and disappears.

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