alien nose carving

This is an original facsimile of a copy of a 3rd nose carving by Vertrop Neehapplethar.
(This race's only other use for their 3rd nose is to check the 4th, 9th and 17th leg pits for non-attractive odors during their brief mating season.)
### see footnote



This carving depicts the yellow-green setting sun of his home planet reflecting off his recently wax and buffed hyper-orb as it lands in a field of mushrooms and other squiggly viney stuff that I am too busy to come up with names and stories for.
@@@ see second footnote

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### footnote - V. Neehapplethar is best known for starting the 18 year war with Glipsnat Prime with his off-handed remark, "This whole Glip delegation is starting to turn my crank!". Being only a lad of 312, and seeing that his race had some laser cannons that needed to be tested anyway, his only punishment was the removal of his 9th and 17th legs. This inspired him to put his now nearly worthless 3rd nose to some use carving cheesy alien pendants.

@@@ second footnote - It bears mentioning that if you click to a larger pic of the pendant and look into the ball near the center, and if you have the slightest amount of imagination, you will see 'The Man In The Moon'. &&& see second footnote's footnote

&&& second footnote's footnote - I have no idea how this happened, it is some unintended play of light in my camera lightbox. If you purchase the pendant, you will not see this illusion unless:
a: you happen to be 'The Man In The Moon' and see your own reflection, or,
b: you put the pendant on, come to my house, crawl into my lightbox, roll over, and hold a mirror in front of yourself - not recommended.

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What is wrong with pendant: Peridot may not be perfectly round and may have slight surface imperfections.

What is right with pendant: Will not cause rabies. (This was a nasty rumor started on Glipsnat Prime during the war. However, if after wearing, you get the urge to bite someone that you normally do not want to bite, you might check with your physician, just to be on the safe side.)

like a wave, tossed about on the sea

What a miserable week this has been. A week measured not in named days, but spans of apprehension and unrest. The 15 hours of sleep last night might be considered a reprieve, however I awoke to the same tremulous existence, with an attached cloud of grogginess.

Two days ago we had an unexpected visit from old friends. However much appreciated, such visits serve as touchstones marking the distance between the waking world and myself. A gap that widens with passing years.

I am not granted the solace of muted madness, or rather I refuse it, choosing instead to create a virtual world - built only inches ahead of my next footstep - expending every scrap of energy I can muster. This virtual world, when placed side by side with reality, is an embarrassing forgery. 'But look,' I say, 'at the wonderful Oompa Loompas dancing in my workshop', but my steady friend can only muster the slightest acknowledgment while eyeing an opportunity for escape.

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- This is only a passing item, a larger than expected wave that breaks and disrupts the ocean's edge for a moment, then is forgotten. The Oompa Loompas must be fed, tended and rearranged for the task at hand, building footpaths into oblivion.