No edit summary Tag: 2017 source edit |
No edit summary Tag: 2017 source edit |
||
| Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
{{No plot}}{{Infobox_episode|title = "The Storm Over Tristero"|episodeNumber = 21|episodeFocus = [[Boat Party]]|pubDate = April 11, 2015|previousEpisode = "[[Seasons of Hieron Episode 20|Do I Feel Followed?]]"|nextEpisode = "[[Seasons of Hieron Episode 22|Closing the Window]]"|length = 120 min|TATT="[https://friendsatthetable.net/seasons-of-hieron-21-the-storm-over-tristero Episode Audio]" | {{No plot}}{{Infobox_episode|color-theme=aih|title = "The Storm Over Tristero"|episodeNumber = 21|episodeFocus = [[Boat Party]]|pubDate = April 11, 2015|previousEpisode = "[[Seasons of Hieron Episode 20|Do I Feel Followed?]]"|nextEpisode = "[[Seasons of Hieron Episode 22|Closing the Window]]"|length = 120 min|TATT="[https://friendsatthetable.net/seasons-of-hieron-21-the-storm-over-tristero Episode Audio]" | ||
"[https://drive.google.com/open?id=1Q0-VP3_DdZzQ7xE9LmyK5kLi1Vqy6MTLOerdWtGwzxM Transcript]"}} | "[https://drive.google.com/open?id=1Q0-VP3_DdZzQ7xE9LmyK5kLi1Vqy6MTLOerdWtGwzxM Transcript]"}} | ||
== Episode description == | == Episode description == | ||
Revision as of 08:42, 12 July 2022
This article needs a plot summary. Please help fattwiki by adding one.
Episode description
"In the eve of a crisis in the seaside city of Nacre, Fero nominates himself for public service, Lem King finds himself surrounded and alone, And Hella... oh Hella."
Lem's poem
The differences between the rain on these old terra cottas
And the wind on these painted shutters
And the water pooling underneath the sills
And the rain that trickles through our gutters
And irrigations and hallways back home
Is something to do with the sound
Or partly to do with the color
As it sits in the hand and on the pages
Or partly to do with the dust smell
In the white streets in this town that shouldn't exist
And definitely, definitely doesn't exist
Or perhaps it's in the sight of the droplets seen from the spire
Falling clean through the chairs and tables
And diners and fruit sellers
Shrugging wet hair out of bright eyes
And looking up at the storm over Tristero