Franz Marc Tiger

Franz Marc TigerFranz Marc StablesFranz Marc Foxes
she stepped aside and waited.
Bill Door lay in the darkness of the hayloft and waited. Below, he could hear the occasional horsey sounds of Binky - a soft movement, the champ of a jaw.
Bill Door. So sand in the top bulb. He put it back.
And then there was this “sleep”. He knew what it was. People did it for quite a lot of the time. They lay down and sleep happened. Presumably it served some purpose. He was watching out for it with interest. He would have to subject it to analysis.
Night drifted across the world, coolly pursued by a new day.
There was a stirring in the henhouse across the yard.now he had a name. Of course, he’d always had a name, but he’d been named for what he embodied, not for who he was. Bill Door. It had a good solid ring to it.Mr Bill Door. William Door, Esq. Billy D - no. Not Billy.Bill Door eased himself further into the hay. He reached into his robe and pulled out the golden timer. There was, quite perceptibly, less