Fool

Mr.Fool was sitting as he pleased, knuckles pressed on the ground and a crude smile on his lips. "You're a good girl dear sister, though I do believe your ambitions are too high." He spoke softly looking up at the thin figure of his flighty sibling. "Shoosh you," she smiled and sighed crumpling down to the ground getting herself in Fools face. "You have pretty eyes but that doesn't give you any insight into what I can, and more precisely can not do." She smiled again, smugly with a showing of her teeth. He didn't need to see them all... "Ho hum" he mumbled rubbing the sweat from his palms onto his exposed legs. He was wearing shorts and he had sweaty hands. For a moment he considered if that was all there was to him.

"A man wearing shorts sat on the ground wiping his sweaty hands on his scantly clad legs," he tilted his head as if he expected his launched words to come falling down from the sky, they did not. Liz, his sister, looked at him quizzically yet with patience likened unto some abstract painter trying to see what it is she was creating, to view past the veil of oil and canvas. "It's like staring into a mirror that's making a face at you", she intoned wrinkling her nose. This caused freckles to bridge clear patches of her face. Fool grunted despondently. She sighed parting her lips gently, "Fool." But she said nothing more.