Frida Kahlo Thinking about Death

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listened in awed silence as the endless mists rolled across the dripping fields and the red ball of the sun floated down the sky. When the boy had finished hot tears were streaming down Hwel's face.
'By all the Sto Lat by sunset.'
As the grumbling actors awoke from the spell and wandered back to the shafts of the lattys Vitoller beckoned to the dwarf and put his arm around his shoulders, or rather around the top of his head.
'Well?' he said. 'You people know all about magic, or so it is said. What do you make of it?'
'He spends all his time around the stage, master. It's only natural that he gods,' he said, when Tomjon had finished, 'I must have been on damn good form when I wrote that.' He blew his nose noisily.'Do I sound like that?' said Willikins, his face pale.Vitoller patted him gently on the shoulder.'If you sounded like that, my bonny,' he said, 'you wouldn't be standing arse-deep in slush in the middle of these forsaken fields, with nothing but liberated cabbage for thy tea.'He clapped his hands.'No more, no more,' he said, his breath making puffs of steam in the freezing air. 'Backs to it, everybody. We must be outside the walls of