The birds disappeared.

Did they flight away? Died, or just melted in the digestive system.
They lived in my stomach, poor birds.
The bag , turn on fire on the party. That was the best thing that happened!
I had a task, the bag vas a bonus.
Now I have walked through the black Luthagensea to me. Frozen air.
Uppsala is caught by frost. Like in the tale about the giant and his garden of Oscar Wilde.
I am the giant and in my garden lives the north wind.

I got a voodoo doll of Pelle. What am I supposed to do with it?
Just have it.
Women wants “magic”, did Pelle say and suggest me to start with black magic.
Wik is an open wound. That bleeds, and bleeds