Monday, December 26, 2011

I do not eat snow.

I think I was two. It had snowed. I played in the snow. I made a snow pile and drew a face on it. I made snow angels. I threw snowballs at the horses. I got thirsty. Snow is water. I ate snow. I went in the house and got a straw. I walked along a snow bank poking my straw into it, drinking the snow. I did this for a while. My mouth filled with a horrible flavor. I spit it out, brushed the snow away from where my straw was. On the ground with a straw sticking out of it was a pile of dog shit. I no longer eat snow.

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