There is a drawing pelted into the sand by the rain. It must’ve fell out the trash when the truck got it. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it in there but now its there blown into the dirt with wrinkles from its breathing moisture and now its got something to say about it. That is almost enough to skip school today. That is well enough since news of brain cancer being accelerated by thinking came out on the radio news. I would get in the trash can until the truck comes again if I didn’t believe the stray dog packs would come by and knock me over smelling for eating and I would bark at them that my cancer is spreading because of them. Making me think about putting up fences if I had the cash to keep them away, everybody away to stop thinking.

By now, the wind is picking up. I lay down in hopes that the breeze will decide for me. The drawing cartwheels by but I am too heavy. It must be cancer. I wonder if a pillow would cause too much thought. The simple quiet crush of a cool pillow causes cancer too. I suppose I will just go to school.


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