Stranded in Thoughts
“Me is the sorry for what me is the done early this in the afternoon.”
“It’s okay,” I replied, glancing at the strange rhino creature dozing by his feet. “Who was it you were looking for, anyway?”
His hand paused mid-pet, and he let out a deep sigh. Rising from his seat, he stretched his arms wide, showing off a towering, muscular frame. Seven feet tall. Maybe more. Definitely not typical for a Filipino—Caucasian blood, perhaps?
“It’s me other mate, Gregorio. He is the also same creature like this one with is the me.” He gestured to the sleeping beast. “Its name is the Prell. So, Gregorio is the run away from me and is the lost.”
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