This story is much later than I usually post it, but it’s been a crazy week in a lot of respects. For one thing, I just got a new job, so I’ll be moving to Iowa very soon. Hopefully, soon thereafter things will finally get back to normal here at the Green-Walled Tower. I also have a bonus story today: my 6-year-old nephew Henry saw the picture and wrote a story for the picture. He has a great imagination.
A Sticky Situation
“. . . and that’s why I’m carrying two tons of powdered sugar, the burnt remains of 8000 Pikachu plushies, and assorted donkey organs across the desert at night.” My palms were sweaty as I finished my convoluted, yet totally accurate explanation.
The cop who had pulled me over stared at me and then his face slowly cracked into a smile. He began to laugh until tears were streaming down his face and he was pounding the side of my car.
“So . . . we’re all good?” I asked tentatively.
“Yeah, but you’ll still have to come to the station. They’ll never believe me otherwise.”
The Sticky Man
There was a person who stepped on it, and then the sticky goo floated up into the air and the person floated up on it. Up, up, up.
And then it went down and smashed into pieces and then everything disappeared and turned into monsters, even the sticky goo turned into monsters. Then it turned back into earth, and then into monsters again.
Then it jumped way up and went into space and hit into Earth and broke into pieces and saw a castle and went in and there was a dragon inside, and it was a king dragon.