Polychrome and Button
Once upon a time, across the several forests and in the greensome valleys, Polychrome and Button lived together in a small farm house on the shores of a wide calm lake. In the morning, Polychrome would go out into her front yard and smell the mild morning breeze wafting in off the lake, and watch splashes of sunlight dance gold across the water.
While Button still sleeps, snoring softly, the long tip of his pointed sleepcap blowing up and then falling down with every breath, Polychrome walks the narrow rows of kukua plants she planted in her garden last March, bending down to split the brown fruit and slipping the wet shiny beans into her left pocket. Then, before Button wakes, she slips into the house and makes Button a cup of coffee, waking him up by waving it beneath his nose.
Button then sprang out of bed, and crawled throug the canvass flap that goes straight into the barn, where, rummaging under Old Mother Chicken, he grabbed two eggs and brought them back, to the little fire that burns in one corner. After throwing them down on the iron skillet, he watched them bubble for two minutes, then scooped them up with his wooden spoon and served them to Polychrome on a chipped china plate.