The Leahy Lounge

....and so the Lounge lay fallow and exhausted upon the land, its bountiful fall harvest plucked and stored away in the hearts of readers, and a chill winter wind moved over the land and the lounge, and not a creature stirred nor squeaked nor chirped, and all was at rest, and Leahy perused the chill landscape from on high and scratched his chin and saw that it was good, and the ghost of BA had the most ethereal look on his face and was at peace, and Eli lifted up his reading glasses and looked up from his dusty tome if only for a moment, and Eli sniffed at the cold damp air, and Eli read on, and Champion Sound busied himself about winter household matters and thought wintry hearth-squatting thoughts and was content, and Swarthington looked off in the distance over the land and the lounge, off into the vast indecipherable distance, and sighed a sigh for the seasons and dreamed of winter wheat and of cool spring rains and of a hot unconquerable summer....