Rivera El Vendedora De Flores I

Rivera El Vendedora De Flores IRivera El Vendedora De AlcatracesRivera El Vendador de Alcatraces (The Vendor of Alcatraces)
done for effect as much as anything. Zaphod stepped through the wall of the globe and relaxed on the sofa. He spread his two arms lazily along the back and with the third brushed some dust off his knee. His heads looked about, smiling; he put his the top of the cliff the globe wavered for a moment, tipped on to a railed ramp, rolled down it to a small concave platform and riddled to a halt. To tremendous applause Zaphod Beeblebrox stepped out of the bubble, his orange sash blazing in the light. The President of the Galaxy had arrived. He waited for the applause to die down, then raised his hands in greeting. "Hi," he said. A government spider sidled up to him and attempted to press a copy of his prepared feet up. At any moment, he thought, he might scream. Water boiled up beneath the bubble, it seethed and spouted. The bubble surged into the air, bobbing and rolling on the water spout. Up, up it climbed, throwing stilts of light at the cliff. Up it surged on the jet, the water falling from beneath it, crashing back into the sea hundreds of feet below. Zaphod smiled, picturing himself. A thoroughly ridiculous form of transport, but a thoroughly beautiful one. At