There is a hat on my head. It has been there a while. Nobody has said when it comes off, so I assume it does not.
There is a hat on my head. It has been there a while. Nobody has said when it comes off, so I assume it does not.There is a whole big couch and I am sitting right in the middle of it. I did not want to guess wrong about which end was mine. The middle seemed safest.The walls are covered in maps of where everything is. I am not on any of them. I am small enough to be the part they left off.There is a string under my chin holding the hat on. I can feel it there. I do not pull at it, because someone tied it, and someone tying a thing means it was supposed to happen.My tongue is out and I am not doing anything with it. It just came out and stayed. I let it, the way I let the hat.
