Pablo Picasso The Shadow

Pablo Picasso The ShadowPablo Picasso The Pipes of PanPablo Picasso Studio with Plaster HeadPablo Picasso Les Demoiselles dAvignonPablo Picasso Le Moulin de la Galette
heard once where there was this city that was so wicked that the gods turned it into a puddle of molten glass,’ said Gaspode, apropos of nothing. ‘And the only person who saw it happen was turned into a pillar of salt by day and a cheese shaker by night.’
‘Gosh. Gaspode.
‘He likes you,’ said Victor.
‘Huh,’ sniffed Gaspode. ‘How’re dogs ever goin’ to amount to anything if they bounce around worshipping people just ‘cos they’ve been given a meal? What’s he want me to do with thisWhat had the people been doing?’ ‘Dunno. Prob’ly not much. It doesn’t take much to annoy gods.’ ‘Me good boy! Good boy Laddie!’ The dog came streaking over the dunes, a comet of gold and orange hair. It skidded to a halt in front of Gaspode, and then began to dance around excitedly, yapping. ‘He’s escaped and he wants me to play with him,’ said Gaspode despondently. ‘Ridiculous, ain’t it? Laddie drop dead.’ Laddie rolled over obediently, all four legs in the air. ‘See? He understands every word I say,’ muttered