Jim Dine Hearts

Jim Dine HeartsAlbert Bierstadt Sierra NevadaGeorge Stubbs Whistlejacket
had already watched the staff lift itself gently from Esk and land on Simon.
Now it had floated up into the air again.
Other wizards had crowded into the room. The librarian was sitting under the table.
"If only we had some idea what is going on," said Cutangle. "It's the suspense I can't stand."
"turned their faces towards Cutangle, expectantly.
He fire coruscated along its length.
There should be a word for words that sound like things would sound like if they made a noise, he thought. The word "glisten" does indeed gleam oily, and if there was ever a word that sounded exactly the way sparks look as they creep across burned paper, or the way the lights of cities would took the smouldering mess out of his mouth and, with a glare that none of the assembled wizards cared to meet, trod it underfoot. "Probably time I gave it up anyway," he said. "That goes for the rest of you, too. Worse than an ashpit in this place, sometimes." Then he saw the staff. It was The only way Cutangle could describe the effect was that it seemed to be going very fast while staying in exactly the same place. Streamers of gas flared away from it and vanished, if they were gas. It blazed like a comet designed by an inept special effects man. Coloured sparks leapt out and disappeared somewhere. It was also changing colour, starting with a dull red and then climbing through the spectrum until it was a painful violet. Snakes of white