Text
Iorgu thinks a lot. He keeps asking himself all sorts of questions, like: what’s a rainbow? Do mice really sprout from rotting hay? Why do clouds float? And I don’t think he’s really looking for answers. He just asks for the joy of it.
That doesn’t mean he’s some useless layabout. He owns plenty of animals, so he has no choice but to work from dawn till dusk. But he doesn’t seem to mind.
No Comments