Author: Borut Slokan

Report private spy translation quick done, planet race dust is, treasures left
The artifact, planet race gone whisper wind, one, only one preserved in howling sand, precious digged, found, rigged, bound, could brought to wisdom the universe. The rectangle known, full thin, dying, letters on sheets was. Treasure, opened to be, lightened. Ruled was, solve slip one, opener, not lift it, continue, otherwise.
Sages three from galaxy five (don’t ask), dared to look at it, trembling.
M’daath, one with two heads never agreeing other, venerated the title; but title of this dying little four-sided of pieces thin was what?
Language being beings, gone, stayed behind, known. Sages mastered fragments it of of anlgaamerish —- in long dead script written in mode three hieroglyphs: walls one, signs built on buildings gone two, and rectangle flimsy artefacts hurt all by time.
(the heretical wise sect demanded there was a compulanguage written too, but no proofs there were)
Sages three from galaxy five (don’t ask), start begin translating title artifact of race and time disappeared. With language shards only, few them help, known less.
Head second M’daath always first tried, always: “It is a female insect hovering the food. See, (h)er and fly and food, butter. Diar be it the owner, and Y are we know a city in the north. It will happen month M(a)y of ancients ”
Head second pale jealous spoke against “It is challenge fighting, see, kick butt, we met fore; means war. Two females kill other, flying. Mad to the death with drink of rye. Mye is a name not month. We know it be the owner of it, know.”
——–, species of name never said, the one in cloud eternal, was slow as all snake mist people were.
“It is a religious ritual, where food, butter thrown to the gods above, can’t you see. And person will die, knife of ry, sacrifice to gods of ancients here. An there is lament, we seen before, saying, my, my, my.”
N, as all his flying species with one name sound solitary hissed his say “It is mating ritual, the butter not food but lubricant for male member entering the fly, fly covering sexual organ, we read that, obvious. Below is signature male olden, D. the fiery one. My was god of this people. The pieces left are full of its name”
Days changed, evenings darkened, dark born rosy morn. Wisest three sages from five galaxy (don’t ask) agreed to disagree, as there no agree was, to agree.
And in air hovered around little thing, possibly treasure history, change all, forbidden open what is not known. And looked, soaked, cooked in head, word on title leaf puzzle unsolvable glaring its letters at them. No title knowing, no open thing rectangle, rule was. Object only, casket secure now, in light glaring them.
Saying, in anlgaamerish dead now, known smithereens lonely only. Unsolvable. It, cultures, letters there, conspicuous them glared:
My Diary