I made a giant blanket chest out of oak. It is very large and I can fit in it. I wonder if I can live in it. I probably can. Maybe I can curl up in a little ball and go to sleep.
When I wake up, I will be inside my blanket chest. And I will feel most safe. I will sit up and open the crooked lid and step out. I will stretch some feeling back into my legs.
I am most happy that I have built my blanket chest.
My mother used to coo over me when she was still here.
I am going to visit her in a short while, in July. I haven't seen her for a long time and so I am nervous.
I sit in a rocking chair of nervousness and I sway back and forth, back and forth, too close to the edge.
Sometimes I play at Devil's Den and catch the crawdads in the nearby creek, but not today. Today I sit back and laze around because today was a lazy day. I ate too much at supper and my tummy is upset.
My dog Otissimo is my favorite, I've taught him to jump through a hula hoop. It was easy and now he hops through the hoop at my belly button's height. I am five foot four inches and I don't know how tall that is in metric.
My dog isn't lazy, he's funny.
I played Legos today too, but earlier and before supper.
I'm too old to play legos, but I don't care.
I was bored. Bored bored bored.
A city sprawled before me and about twenty lego people inhabited it. The skyscrapers weren't so tall, about as high as my knee, but I made believe that they were thousands of stories high.
I was sad when the civil war started, the lego civil war. I watched in horror as the little pieces beat each other up in my hands. And poor, poor Joe Benezlek. He died. Trying to save Martha. He didn't know that she was engaged because yellow sharpie doesn't really show up that good on yellow semi-circle hands.
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