The little line gasped. A party hat of yellows, purples, and orange perched upon his head. He glanced down and wrinkled up his nose, a purple ribbon danced and fluttered in the breeze.
The Little Line gasped, and no this was not what it was expecting. For one thing the colors were not quite right. It was more blues greens and yellows and gold that were its destiny. And yes there was gold but the little line didn’t think that this was an ending to its journey. There was going to be something different for it and the little line knew this deep within its crosses.