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part four -- about this story

 
 
 

This story is endless. One might pick it up at any time and still get the gist of it. "Oh it certainly held my interest." Stick people revolve in a sailboat top/tub/tribe of primary colors. My mother knocks on the door to find out what we are doing. We put our wet hands on the table.

 
 

"Your mother is plain but serviceable."

"Your mother is a witch who takes drugs."

 
 

If I remember correctly, we were fighting over the red, blue, and yellow toy

 
 
the gentle stripes of which/
in faith/ to nuzzle on the bit/
fall croaking, out the door