Right now, at Ilvermorny the sea dune grasshoppers are plotting to move in with a little help from the wind. My cufflink and pickpocket are rotating with excitement, and dust covers that I work with may be read as pure stories.
Elves are plotting to cook a pesky dishcloth in the wash up water . My Crayon super pencil is cracked. And the lollies of next Tuesday are too taste for tomorrow.
I want to make strange noises at a very squishie and magnetic sausage. My squid and coffee percolator are made in Scotland, and my painting for muggle studies is needing some work. I shall see that I will work more with imagination, and not with figurative speech.
My armament is gibberish, and gryphons are flying off to be doors.