Pinky has more boxes than anyone I know.
They are not organized. I mention that because one would think that if someone went to the trouble of putting so many things in so many boxes that they would be.
But they’re not.
The boxes are all over the place.
Some are quite old.
Some have utility bills in them from another time and place.
Some have keepsakes.
You never know what’s in them until you open them.
Pinky is working on her boxes now as she realizes that there are too many of them
and that some of them are going bad like old fridge fruit.
She sits in the garage at night with the light on and goes through them.
I think it is a rather tender sight.
Now I feel emotional over all her boxes.
He said ‘hi’.
I said ‘hi’.
He introduced himself as John Puterhead.
I asked him if he knew about the Linkyshire Militia since it was on my mind.
He looked at me a little puzzled and then quickly asked me,
You mean ‘The Militia? The video game?
A video game?
Yeah, it was popular a few years ago. It’s old hat now.
Oh, I said. Can you find out if Mayor Armapple plays that game?
Sure, he said. He looked at his phone and pressed it a few times.
He’s a member of the Linky Militia, ranked 10th.
Thanks, I said. (I didn’t care about the ranking).
John Puterhead moved in last night.
He is like Johnny Appleseed in a way.
He helps people with their computers.
He’s nice.
He helped Mrs. Magellan send an email.
And he helped Arbo who was trying to hack into a website.
I’m not sure if that counts.
He said ‘hi’ to me in the hall.
I hope he’s nice.
I hope he’s not in the militia.
Pinky did not want me to come to her new place.
She said I was too big for Pinkyshire.
But I went anyway.
I knew my Mini-Cooper was the right size.
The stepping stones to her new pink house were
small, small, small.
I had to tiptoe to her little front door.
My knocking on it seemed to rattle the whole neighborhood.
When she opened the door she had on a little pink bonnet.
She was smaller than I remembered her to be.
She had shrunk, I was sure of that.
She had even shortened her name to “Pink”.
Then I remembered that I was in my own dream.
Last night frogs croaked in the pond.
I could hear them through my window.
They got louder and louder.
The traffic diminished.
They got louder and louder.
I listened to them.
They chorused, “Mu Li Sha”.
