This is a big animal, yo. It is hairy and furry and it makes long, lowing sounds, especially in the afternoon. It likes to tap dance. Here, listen:. _/-) ---=--) --:"
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And meanwhile, the earth begins to turn so audibly. Whirring and shifting and shouting and compressing and silent. It comes over and serves you tea. Herbal, lemon, green, earl grey, Irish breakfast, all laid out for you. Good afternoon. And this time of year, the sun is nearly at the trees and this time Igansis does a different dance. Similar, but it tremulates its jaw to tune to each so I nd of sunfall. The bird flapping to skatter upawards, against the light; the sticks and logs bending into the land. Igansis does all of this and then, well after you've fixed dinner, it hums and whispers. It bolsters imagery and colour and scent. It speaks from the TV or radio or just from the pipes and it sends sparks through your molars as you dream.