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“You don’t even have a head” she said as she looked at the faceless, hardly there man.
“I’ll take yours then” he said as he reached out and without any recognisable sensation, she felt her head lift away from her shoulders and she fell backwards into something other than her bed.
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Gaukosan was a fine looking frog, and he was rather popular in his large, jade pond. Others thought his closest friend was the Natterjack Toad, but it was in fact the dragonfly, that wore an impressive monochrome exoskeleton. A creature as dashing as Gaukosan would not be in cahoots with a Natterjack, he gossiped far too much, where as the dragonfly, Denoir, was a much more worldy consort to keep.
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She looked like she was made from the milk of the moon, although very few could imagine such a thing, and she sounded like an oracle when she spoke with wisdom split into fragments, hidden like jewels amongst her nonsensical being.
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Every night, for the past I don’t know how long, the noise was so loud that he could not sleep. So remedy after remedy, of mugwort and red poppies, he stopped drinking his potions and took to the streets at witching hour.