in boxes

An offcut from the Story Kettle

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Copyright © 2013, Michael M Wayman

I picked up a church, very carefully, it looked a bit crumbly. I'll take it very slowly over the mountains. Going over the mountains is easier, because I don't have to be so careful where I go.

Just avoid any boxes and especially power lines, they can give you a nasty sting in the ankles. They get very upset if I step on one of their boxes, even if I tread on one of their fields.

I try to keep them happy, by helping them move some of their boxes. Why do they have so many boxes, they're all over the place. They race around in their metal boxes, they think they are so fast, but I can walk faster.

However they think that I am slow and want to tread on them. Why don't they look where they are going, they don't look forwards and never upwards. They look at their feet. Perhaps they're are scared of falling over.

They are scared of the dark, they go into their boxes at night and go into standby mode. They think I don't know this. They don't know how I communicate with them. Rather funny really.

The church is quite a pretty, little box. It's the last one of about twenty boxes that I've carried to the open-air museum village on the other side of the mountains. I hope it makes them happy.

I've had enough of boxes, I'm going to spend some time in the desert or the tundra or in the ocean.