On the small island that now holds Suzy’s and mine’s suburban apartment, there isn’t a lot of room. Bonny’s Revenge, my son’s flying warship, is docked in the front. There’s a heap of dust which apparently has now remained behind and forever, right next to Bonny’s Revenge. Its purpose, apparently, is to get dirty post showers. And now, in the back, is a grave.
Joy, Justin, and Charlie dug a small hole, enough to put in a tombstone.
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