The path along Salt Creek now stood
under rain dripping elm trees, and every stone in the water was holding up
broken tree limbs which were articulated with frogs and toads and sun loving turtles.
School instructors, talking to us as
in some way the cause of the ordinary disappearance of the deadheads, tuned,
with any word, and told us to study away as if it was for our lives. Those who
were drank at the fountain jumped up to the zoo’s restroom facilities and
shouted to the people in blocked facility toilets, ‘Come On! There is not a desert for me. And no dessert
for me, but maybe of me. The snake
people, who had watched from a safe appearance, started in their walkings,
leaving me by myself.
Mr. Walrus, who had swum to the
forest preserve, leaned on his bottom shell, and was holding his nose pressing
up to the air. People’s blood slid gushing along those water ripples. I walked
to him, for the insider feelings, and did not keep track of where I was going. So did the two frog people. The big one jumped
in front of him and the toad man shot back his tongue to a fly someone’s
shoulder. With that fly he ate lunch, with a happy shout, as my hand in that water
around him sure got stained.
He must have seen the scales on my
shell protecting my body, for he smiled at me and said, “I am only too happy to
have been the one who keeps you OK! Okay?” he asked suddenly, struggling to a
log sitting position and smiled to me. “It was worth for this to swim! Look!
Look!”
The fish were right now down upon
the algae tops, and the red worms fell from my face, so that I was stomach
filled in rosy light. With one impulse the lizards sank on their knees and a
deep and earnest “Ants, cockroaches, grasshoppers” broke from all as their eyes
followed the pointing of their claws.
The toad man spoke, “Now gobble be
the flies that all has not gotten away in rain! See! The drops are not more fly
less over here and there! The storm has positioned over us with food!”
And, to our biter Snapper, with a
smile and in Salt Creek, he swam a gallon of the water.
This feels NICE
Seventh grade, years from now, we
all will have gone through lakes and ponds sewers. And the happiness of snails
for us since we change in the weather, we think, well worms under the path we
enjoyed. It is an added stretch to raise our noses to the sun that our body’s
swimming in the same day as that school of ours which our teachers think they teach us language and
spelling, in our attention has sure died. Even though these moth people are bold,
I know the secret to relieve some of my
boredom that consonants and vowels
spirit away passing feelings and smells. This bundle of orders links all
that little band of frogs and toads. But
they still call us ‘Students’.
In this summer during spelling
classes I was made to take to read and write, and thunder storms over our own
school which was, and is, so full of bored kids and terrible books to read. It
was almost impossible to believe that the things which we had been told will
get us our own job when we graduate with our own thoughts about what is needed
verses the truths they think they told us. Every track of a snake that had been
and will be always around. The Salt Creek stood as before, reared high above a
waste of going to school.
When we got to being grown and lived
with ups and downs, we will be taking actions
as just human beings, which we could all be looked on without despair. For Snakes, they sell food in super markets
and eventually order other ‘people’ around doing what Jewel and Osco tell them
to tell others to sell expensive foods.
Frogs are now building cars and painting them until they finally sell
those vehicles to people who will buy gas and oil and electrical
generators. Toads keep ordering self-paying
students who are old and tired and their doctors told them to get some
exercises. I, along with other box
turtles, program machines to make artificial intelligences in order to look
like these objects do things for people instead of against people.
Some pairs of reptiles are both
happily married. Some read the papers from the internet where the chameleons typed
things in order to sell stuff for business owners to get more rich. We had been busy and not paying attention to
dangers ever since our return so long ago. We were struck with the fact, that
in all the mass of life of which the hiders of lies, there is hardly one authentic
document. Nothing but a mass of typewriting, except the later notebooks of Snapper
Bitten People, and that includes myself, and we all march to drum beats which
are really dumb beats. We could hardly ask anyone, even did be friends with, to
accept these as proofs of ‘I did this for you’. Mr. Walrus smeared it all up as
he said, with our scales on our knees:
“We want don’t want to be brutes .
We demand none to do what is told from us! This day will someday be thought
of that what a live and helpful a person
is just being another one of us. Already we know the bleakness and scare of
reality. Later on, we think we will understand how few, some, many and all do
make our lives so lovable. That I will so
much think as understand.”
I don’t bite people’s necks, feet,
fingers, or any other parts of their bodies.
My own body, even though attempting to protect itself with an outer
shell and a chest covering shell, along with my other friends and acquaintances
who were mamillar humans and now are human reptiles, we, and it is all of we,
and there are probably more wes out there because there are, were, and will be
more human snapping turtles, we want to and will and do live along with all
lives, whether we see or know them or not, as we need and have become all
together. You may be distinct. If you look at it, we are all distinct. But we are not alone. And anyone, and anything, with bodies made up
of earthly chemicals, we are all family and even if we are not familiar with
each other we are friends with each other, or should be.
I liked writing this I hope you liked reading this I would like it if you liked reading THESE
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