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The penguin hadn't moved, of course. They had even tried, but pushing it didn't seem to help, and lifting it was impossible. So it stayed, wedged between the ceiling and the floor, imperious above the staff.
By that morning, they'd started to leave it offerings. Maybe it would leave on its own, if it got something shiny enough, or maybe a pomegranate or something. The fruit was already piling up, and at least one member of the staff had left a little plush bear sitting there.
The moose brought it a mouthful of grass.
By that morning, they'd started to leave it offerings. Maybe it would leave on its own, if it got something shiny enough, or maybe a pomegranate or something. The fruit was already piling up, and at least one member of the staff had left a little plush bear sitting there.
The moose brought it a mouthful of grass.
