The thin man said to me, “It’s all a misunderstanding. We’ll take measures so it won’t happen again.” He nodded his head and also advanced toward the wall.
“Wait!” I cried out. “The eagle! Take the eagle! With the stench!”
The thin man, already half imbedded in the wall, turned around and beckoned the eagle with his finger. The griffin flung itself noisily off the stove and was drawn in under his fingernail. The thin man disappeared. The blue light faded slowly. It became dark and rain resumed its drumming on the windowpanes. I turned on the light and looked the room over. Everything in it was as before, except for the deep gouges on the stove from the griffin’s claws and the senseless and wild footprints on the ceiling.
“The clear butter, formed in cows,” pronounced the mirror with idi
