I found the small book when we had to pack Grandpa's things so he could move out of that old house, and into an old people's apartment building. Mom said it would be better for him there, people could watch him and take care of him. Better care than she could, she said.
I said I could do it, but she said I had to go to school, and I never even walked the dog before he went to live on that farm we see on the side of the highway between our house and Grandpa's.So how could I expect to take of him.
We argued alot about it, but I caved when she said Grandpa might feel ashamed if I took care of him, me being just a boy and him a grown man.
I found the book and flipped through it and saw the bright colours and drawings of naked ladies and the strange writing. Mom called after me and I slipped it into my back pocket just before she walked into the bedroom and told me she needed help in the kitchen.
That night I studied the pages and drawing with a flashlight when I was supposed to be asleep. the book smelled like old paper and ink and the sea I think? Going to show Grandpa when we visit
I think this site is like a power juicer to the armadillo-skinned oranges of writer's block.
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