It was the last three weeks of hibernation before I awoke and found my room a mess. But luckily, I also found some food. An old pastry. Ripened bananas. And dear God, the sweet sound of the ticking clock.
I decided that I would like to go on holiday more often this year. I have been a conosseuer of trivial things and need not attend to partial ways. I have found that through the shedding of some weight, that I am as spry as the next bat. Spring chicken. Delectable dialectal doughty Doyle. As the expression goes.
What more would someone want than the truth? Perhaps a handful of lies. Maybe a bag of regrets. Perhaps some vitamin K-bull.
By God! The young man has gained his mind! As opposed to other conclusions. To see so clearly what really lights up in the fog is the most practical yoke.
What kind of world would it be if one were living in a riddle? Very earthly I imagine. But we’ll be soon to find in.
Was he pulling our leg? Or had someone bucked with the wrong frog?
Pardon my harshness. They survive in the marshes.
The mad scientists drew conclusions in quiet peace. Chaotic peace. Ecstatic peace. But they can’t prove it. The irony, that is.
What the heck is he going on about? Then he slept…
Narrative Nonfiction
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This is extremely interesting. The turn of thought and stream of consciousness like “By God! The young man has gained his mind!” makes the reader take sharp turns in their mind, and wonder about whose thoughts we’re really in. I would extend this into something else.