November 7 Number let in unchecked 'unknown'

on Monday, 7 November 2011
We watched as they rolled down the hill together, he in blue, she in garish red and purple. Gathering speed they began to accumulate a covering of dust, followed by grass, small stones and scraps of discarded plastic ripped from pop bottles. By the time they neared the pond their girth was over a metre across, he, mainly turf and a few small sticks by now whist she'd rolled off onto the path acquiring all kinds of human detritus, receipts, old pens, triangular sandwich boxes and a surprised and rapidly sickening squirrel.
We held our breaths as they roared towards the city gates. The guards couldn't hope to identify everything that bundled through their checkpoint that evening and decided to not record it at all.
Somewhere deep inside the city he and she will begin to wriggle and vibrate, undercover butterflies about to burst their cocoons.

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