On my favorite New Year’s eve my parents gave me books a little too hard for me and I delved in. I like chapter books and graphic novels and Zines. One story was about a boy named Pip. He seems like a faulty narrator to me. No, he is one. He speaks in concentric circles and I can’t really tell what is true and what is a daydream. I thought about his perspective and watched the fire. Then I stood up and did five cartwheels in a row- fast. My mom yelled to stop it and the cat knocked over a glass and ran under the couch. I bugged the dickens out of him- ha!
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