Dry creek beds run through barren Insignificance. Rain becomes mist when it falls on the dry cracked land. Glaring sun flattens those who walk upright. Beetles climb sparse prickly stalks and skitter over steaming rocks.
Visitors pass by on their way elsewhere.
A horned owl flies over Insignificance at night and stretches its wings over the moon. It eats lizards and frightens travelers away.
The owl holds all the knowledge and wisdom of Insignificance in its claws.
In the owl's nest, Procrastination, lie unhatched eggs. The owl glides across Insignificant when she ought to warming the eggs. Instead she patrols and watches for desert bandits while the eggs sit cold.
Procrastination is made of warm fluff, but it is not enough. It rests atop a craggy half-dead tree with great long roots that stretch into the cool, dark water of an underground stream.
When Moid returns to the nest Procrastination and perches beside her eggs (but does not brood) she does not see that the eggs are long dead and nothing will come out of them.
Or, perhaps, there are dragon hatchlings inside that could become greater than Moid and take her place as the guardian of Insignificance. Perhaps, she Moid does know. She sits beside Procrastination eyes closed and dreaming.
No visitors come to this Procrastination. They are too thirsty in Insignificance. They build their nests in other places.
"The nestlings long to hatch, but they remain potent but still without you," says the Guide.
"I will return one day to hatch some dragons while I type," says Miss Emeline Traveler. "But for now I must continue on with my journey through the Emotions."
Miss Doe Friend too looks back longingly at the nest, but Amma-Pom is bored and barks, "Let us carry on!"
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