The tunnels of the mole-men spidered deep into the earth. The tunnels had their own language of turns & dead ends, a language made of words spoken once & left there until an alteration was made, a correction. Dead ends meant supper, armament, traffic light, wiggle, christ-figure & at least 12 other words. All the tunnel-words had so many meanings that a single, small tunnel branch could say almost anything it wanted to, all at once. There was a little tunnel, only a few months old that told a funny story about a dog. Some of older mole-men crawled through it & held their sides, howling with laughter like they hadn't since they were little boys. It had been raining outside lately & there were a group of mole-men who would go up into the rain & dance around & blow raspberries at each other. Once a mole-man got past the age of 90 that mole man would begin to grow wonderful, spindly wings. The wings took years to grow & were always incredibly awkward at first, but mole-men never die. They just find deeper, stranger tunnels.