Blue and Green :: Summer Twenty 14

The summer was sprawling, the people clamoring, money was flowing through. The men, together, figure out the way to make it more than spending it.

No room to be blue when the pockets are lined with green. Only way is to hunt in the blue, hunting for the green of the room, the coffers of our Mother. Father beats down on us, darkening our skin, attracting the women.

No room to be blue when green fills our pockets and we find ourselves in the pockets of Mother Blue.