The Ship that that left the port carried eight blind passengers. They had posed as sailors on the Silvershining that promised coins and growth. Something was standing there and fare-welling. The posing had been carefully stitched together of hands that created beautifully patterns and prided the Uni-Form with the symbol that had been handed down and never been questioned. The Taylor let his hands do this I the howling tones of an old trumpet that filled the vinds of the neighborhood that never was the same old song. The symbol had a multi dimensional quality to it that surprised the Taylor by unveiling new side of itself.
Like the fabrics brought by the silver bow from far-flung places that was not places in his will-age.
This made his vocation hasty and he missed and the blod de-solated the fine fabrics in a dark room. Abandoned alone with all the other before-seekers. The thouch of the hands on the silk had, in the dark room started listening to the weaving av the howling tones that re-awakened, and re-minded the passing by about the Rose that could grow of the though-line t that found each other so the blind passengers was able to stand by the bouquet of multicolored that gathered every stitch that all the Taylors that had drowned in the cold water when the Tay bridge didn’t account for the fabrics of the the law of Zevs. Seventy five of the passangers was swallowed up and was the collateral damage so the Forth bridge could be built that still stands because the fabrics changed.