After every meal, I take a spoon and look at my reflection. Sometimes it’s upside down and I frown. Tomorrow I plan to bring an umbrella to the dinner table, to combat the lack of a roof over my head. I knew going into the purchase of my home that a roof is one of the more important things to have, but the realtor gave me such a great deal! I’m not bitter, I don’t have buyer’s remorse. I stick my chin up and catch the raindrops in my mouth. Nothing’s more refreshing than rainwater. The money I saved on this house went into buying waterproof objects of all shapes and sizes. Sure, my fingers are constantly pruny during a stretch of rain, but I’ve found that I can grip things much better that way. I’ve begun testing a hypothesis regarding the similarity of my pruny fingers to the sticky fingertips of a gecko; I think that the longer my fingers stay pruned up, the more sensitive they become. It is my natural assumption that if I live in a constant state of pruny fingers for a decade or so, I may be able to grip onto surfaces (walls, ceilings, etc.) and convey myself in a way that no other human ever has. If you’d be so kind as to leave me alone and come back when I’ve made some progress in this experiment, I would very much appreciate it.
WHARVED 