We once told a story about defiance and resistance, how a rouge troop of artisans countered the state orchestra for one instance. We were simply trying to make ourselves better than that one person that simply though that he was better than all of us. We basked in devastation at the falling of the conductor, the end had brought new life to the beginning of a brand new fight.
While the order of the beast issued orders to the meek we made a subtly frantic but yet orderly retreat. I reverted to the old me and found my orders on my seat; they were obviously phony, our orders had been breached. We were unable to investigate the orders or the leak, so the orders became meaningless to a class that sought to seek. So we sought and we fought and we lost but not defeat, and we taught the tall man that we were anything but weak. Between a trial and an apology stood an interesting deceit; that a once "repentant" fall boy had pulled a remorseless repeat.
We once told a story about defiance and resistance,of how an unrepentant fall boy remained defiant and resistant. How on the instance of a felled conductor a certain plot was scripted from a distance. How a rouge troop of artisans were said to be cold and somewhat distant. But there was smoke and many mirrors, plus a joke and a complex metaphor, thus the plot has thickened in a brand new beginning that ended the end this ending.
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