The little boy that he was, the wonder he had mixed in his blood, the understanding of all that was around him; then, before he was six he understood, mathematics to be the music which he heard all around him, the music that came from the voices from his parents and uncles and brothers and sisters and the animals and the conversations he had after he learned to speak with a dog, and he understood the birds, and the smell of the earth, the voice of the rain, and the song of the smell from when all was wet or dry, or about to rain or dust the flew when the wind visited and the music within the darkness, and when the sun would not allow for anyone to look at it, then he was happy.
Short Stories
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I quite enjoyed this short story. I love the play of words, it was all captivating.