Pluviophile Finn F. Finch gazed un-down to the fluff grey friends floating flawlessly while wet drops dropped diligently not-up. Feeling joyous in an unmelencholic cheerful nostalgia of the beforenow, Finn fiddled with the timeteller that was his clock contraption. Twelve turns of the wee wiggle wheel left Finn rewinding reversely retracting his here now, now there, now now. The decrescendo destination described as the present past location was nothing the unfortunate of Finn’s favorite fair, The Futurition Fair.
Fearfully, Finn felt his own feverish fable fold. A clock adventurer isn’t allowed to venture carely within their own clock then perception. Let alone live along the life one has already once lived. Alas, our arrogant adventurer dismissed this rendering as a re-reaccounted affair. Suddenly, a sudden sound sounded surely an uncertain sound. Ker-pop! Finn felt faint. This sound wasn’t familiar. And struck Finns thoughts feeling forced to feel false.
“Oh,” our dear finn thought. It is only the lovely lady Lily playing the Plate Break. “Wait…” in wonder, Finn pondered. Has he stumbled seriously onto this surprise? Have they had a meet cute before? Or coincidentally crossed paths previously without knowing? Now, Finn was faced with a curious conundrum. Could he be allowed to speak to Lily? Should he not dare interrupt his own clock then perception? Frowzled, Finn feared what fatalistic occurrence might unfold, if Lily saw Finn.
Finn crouched in a sneakified stance as to not be seen. Finn ducked behind the faux Duck Pond. Tip-toed through the treacherous Tin Can Alley. Laid lifeless under the Ladder Climb. And keenly cloaked in the Kissing Booth. Until…. Lily foot stepped closer. Dressed in decorative drag, our festive Finn was mummified. Would the whole continuous everything end eternally?
Finn fled faster than his masquerade could flee, leaving a Finn formed wardrobe behind. Lily leaned in to lip touch, but only the littlest of wind would billow back. Two to three foot steps away, Finn attempted to turn his longwind to a shortbreeze. He leaned up and turned to learn Lily lingered beside to help this postureless person. Alas, Finn was silently faced face to face with his one and only love again. However, this time our Lily has yet to learn of our Finn.
Lily lifted her hand grabber, “I’m Lily LaBelle.” Finn grabbed her hand grabber with his hand offering, “No other Lily would be quite as true.” Lily blushed pink and our Finn felt as if he were gazing into the stars once more. For Finn knew her, and Lily knew him not. However, their hearts can harmonize in a hum for a hundred years and a hundred more — even here and now and when, with lovely Lily LaBelle and Finn F. Finch at the Futurition Fair.