A couple years ago I took a creative writing class, and one of our assignments was to write an essay (200 words or less) of complete non-sense. This was mine.
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It’s cold outside, but still I spring from the covers bright-eyed; thankfully my blanket is sewn onto my skin. The downside to that is I leave pieces of myself everywhere I go. The nice lady says I’m like a cat the way I clean myself with my tongue, which is ridiculous since I’m nothing like a cat. Still, I do enjoy freshly licked hands. I use them to arrange my blanket that sits on the pillow which is bigger than I am. When I eat socks, I get to exchange them for cookies. Later, walking in the neighborhood, I smell a pizza crust around the corner and make a run for it. The grass tickles my chin as I run. It reminds me of chasing motorcycles, though I usually only catch their sound. Speaking of chasing, there are creatures in my yard that I need to find, but the nice lady calls to me, shaking cookies. She talks to me in a language I cannot speak, write, or understand, and she makes perfect sense.
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