A nameless cat lives in a town of dry, unhappy people devoid of moisture, joy and creativity. How did the townspeople get this way? Who stole the moisture? And how can one crafty cat return moisture-and life -to his town?
through the window and escaped their swindle."
Now the cat was very interested in what the fool had to say. "Can you tell me how to get there?" This 'King' must be in cahoots with the sponges, he thought.
"The journey is only as long as you desire. The distance is always the same. It's to the west; I don't remember the rest. I just danced and pranced all the way."
The cat sensed that the fool wasn't very dependable when it came to important things, as if he had his head in the clouds, and rarely thought of anything but himself. At least the annoying thing had given him some useful information.
The cat excused himself, and the fool just hopped and wiggled and giggled on his way, while continuing his bizarre song:
"Where to next?
Some place to jest.
Without any cares,
or hard things to bear.
No one to love,
other than me.
No friends to hug,
just fun and glee.
Nothing holding me back,
nor things to pack.
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