Wept from own

Foggy ideas

Doalioc was a was a big village surrounded by hills of dead heather. There lived a lot of different people; blacks and whites, chiques and slobs, wizards and muggles, open and close-minded. You could almost say it was a city, but the most centred and crowded part of Doalioc was the rather small Kigslonnepp-path, although it was generally seen as more of a street then a path. There were brick-builded shops on every random place of the street. The path for cars was precisely as wide as the two pavements, what could irritate car-having muggles living there, since the pavements were rather small.
The weird thing about Kigslonnepp-path was that only every five minutes, a stranger could cross your path. Kigslonnepp-path was always nearly empty, but from what people said, you could never possibly get the feeling it was deserted, although there were some glasses from windows of shops broken. It had something lively in it: a wave. Especially in the beginning of the street, at the greengrocer...

The surrounding hills of Doalioc had a layer if death, purple-brown bushes, because of the new younger willows growing there. No farmer or bushman ever felt the necessary bother to pull the little trees out of the ground to save the heather growing there. 'It's nature and don't bloody touch it, you'll understand?' Is something Genyse Merdaline would say, the daughter of the old bushman. Merdaline was woman who had turned the age of how she felt, and in 'race' to be the mayor of Doalioc. She was actually more cheered in the race by friends and family, than by own initiative. Some people even adored her because of her showing maturity and strength, to Merdalines actual disgust. People often made the strangest things to happen for her, she noticed, while Merdaline had rather never expected people to do something for her, although she always wanted that peculiar something to happen as she gave them a so-called 'order'. Merdaline was indeed extremely determined. As so Merdaline forbid her father to pull the willows, who didn't live far away from Doalioc, out. The government didn't seem to notice, and also strangly enough, that was exactly what Merdaline wanted.

Merdaline was always busy with thinking about foggy, strange things that bothered or just fascinated her. She didn't just think about things as a common person would, though. She could stare out of the window for hours or longer, seeing people doing odd things, and starting thinking again. Thinking was her favourite option for escape from that awful world. Around her, while she was thinking, the strangest things would happen and the strangest spectacles could be seen. But good old Genyse, she rarely noticed and as if she was sleeping, she would think further. She could always be stressing about things no one bothered to care about, so when she'd ask for help for one of her ideas, people would say: 'Genyse, sweetheart. You're thinking too much! Write your own book!' Even Genyse herself admitted it was true - she was always thinking, seeing, and thinking again. Although she was running for mayor, she didn't feel the bother to think about her cases. She had felt like she was naturally and un coincidently drawn to all those little things she was thinking about. But maybe, she had thought when she saw the neighbour lady glance into her eyes from the other side of the street, she had been thinking only way too complex than she'd realised.