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Ep.11 “Mense de pex”

Ep.11 “Month of Fish”

A tresento anios ante aora, a un falesa de mar, un fem en un roba fluente blanca ia sta a medianote, regardante la luna en la sielo. Sua nom ia es Isabella e el ia es a punto de mori. Mori de un cor creveda. E ance de venena car el ia es venenida par un baronesa vil. Cuando la ondas ia cade a la falesa el ia dise un parola final a la note e alora ia maldise la parola mesma afin lo va es nunca diseda denova e pos tal ata final el ia lansa se a la mar.

Three hundred years ago on a seaside cliff at midnight a woman in a flowing white dress stood staring at the moon in the sky. Her name was Isabella and she was dying. Dying of a broken heart and also of poison for she had been poisoned by an evil baroness. As the waves crashed against the cliff she shattered one final word into the night then cursed the word itself so that it would never be uttered again and with that final act she threw herself into the sea.

A tresento anios pos esta, a un note simil, un adolesente nomida Stacy ia pasea longo la falesa, escutante la mar e la venta. Subita el ia oia un ulula temable e la forma fantasmin de Isabella ia es ante el.

Three hundred years later on a similar night a teenager named Stacy was walking along the cliffside listening to the sea and the wind. Suddenly she heard a ghostly howl and the spectral form of Isabella was before her.

- U! - Stacy ia dise car el no ia vide fantasmas a ante.

- Wow! - said Stacy who had never seen a specter before.

- Alo, covagor de la falesa, - la fantasma de Isabella ia dise. - Me infesta esta borda de mar car me ia mori asi a tresento anios pasada de un cor creveda e ance de venena e ance de lansa me a la mar.

- Hello, fellow cliffside wanderer, - said Isabella’s ghost. - I haunt this cliffs for I died here three hundred years ago from a broken heart and also poison and also tossing myself into the sea.

- Lo es multe fresca! - Stacy ia dise pensante ce lo ta es bon, deveni un fantasma bizara e luminante pos sua mori.

- That’s pretty cool! - said Stacy who thought it would be nice to be a weird glowing specter when she died.

- Me ave sola un regrete de mea vive, - Isabella ia dise. - Un ata sur cual me desira ce me no ia fa lo, ma lo es fada e asta aora resta tal e mea spirito donce no pote trova la reposa.

- I only had one regret from my life, - said Isabella. - One deed that I wish I had not did but it was done and remains so and my spirit thus cannot find rest.

- Cual? - Stacy ia dise car el no ia catura la plu de esta par causa de venta multe mal a acel note.

- What? - said Stacy who had missed most of that because the wind was really bad that night.

- Me ia maldise un parola cuando me ia mori e acel parola ia es diseda no plu. Ma me ia ama la parola, e plu ca cualce otra cosa me vole ce lo reveni.

- I cursed a word when I died and that word has been spoketh no more. But I loved the word and more than anything wish its return.

- Oce, me pote twita lo si tu vole, - Stacy ia dise. - Me pensa me ave ancora mea conta de Twitter. A minima me ta pote dise lo a multe veses.

- Okay. I can like tweet it if you want, - said Stacy. - I think I still have my Twitter account. At the very least I could say it a bunch.

- Lo ta trae multe lus a mea cor e caldia a mea spirito, - Isabella ia dise.

- That would bring much light to my heart and warmth to my spirit, - said Isabella.

- Bon, cual es la parola? - Stacy ia demanda.

- So what’s the word? - asked Stacy.

- Scap… scababab… scabadababajababa… - Isabella ia dise noncoerente.

- Skap… skababab… skabadababajababa… - said Isabella incoherently.

- Lo sona mera como alga babela, - Stacy ia dise.

- It just sounds like you’re saying nonsense, - said Stacy.

- Lo es como me ia teme, - Isabella ia dise. - La maldise preveni an me de pronunsia la parola maldiseda.

- It is as I feared, - said Isabella. - The curse prevented even me from speaking the cursed word.

- Lo apesta, - Stacy ia dise. - Tu ta pote en loca usa un otra parola cual sinifia la mesma cosa.

- That sucks, - said Stacy. - You ought to just come up with the different word instead that means the same thing.

- Esta es un bon idea, - Isabella ia dise. - Como sur “uulauii”?

- That’s a good idea, - said Isabella. - How about “oolawee”?

- A… serta, - Stacy ia dise pensante ce lo es un parola de sona falsa e orible. - Cual lo sinifia?

- Ah… sure, - said Stacy who thought it was a terrible and fake sounding word. - What does it mean?

- Lo sinifia la despera la plu grande imajinable. Lo sinifia ce la cor deveni ruinada en cuando lo reconose ce nunca lo va es felis denova.

- It means the greatest despair imaginable, it means your heart is falling apart as it realizes it will never be happy again.

- Oce, me ia twita lo, - Stacy ia dise.

- Okay, I tweeted it, - said Stacy.

- Grasias! - Isabella ia dise. - Me es no uulauii plu e mea spirito pote reposa aora.

- Thank you! - said Isabella. - I’m no longer oolawee and my soul may rest.

Pos acel, el ia desapare a via, e Stacy ia vade a casa e ia come alga wafeles Eggo.

With that she faded away and Stacy went home and ate some Eggo waffles.

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Lo ia es automatada jenerada de la paje corespondente en la Vici de Elefen a 18 maio 2024 (17:56 UTC).