Friday 24 June 2011

Porcelain Hands


Boy number 4 used to be a bat but now, instead of flying, he simply walked on air.
            The over-excited, eight-dimensional butterflies in his head had all fortunately had the same thought, and, therefore, eventually.
            The over-excited, eight-dimensional butterflies in his head were now watching the re-run on their DVD players whilst refusing to eat breakfast. Again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.
            They had to wear over-excited, eight-dimensional butterfly sunglasses because the picture was so bright despite the fact that it was nearly pumpkin time; they hadn’t needed to turn the volume down, as they were only watching the silent bits, as over-excited, eight-dimensional butterflies are wont to do.
            It was a sunny day.

Ad infinitum.

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