
We're here at the amusement park/petting zoo; we're riding the motorized dragon, which belches not fire, but fumes--gasoline fumes from the beast's lawnmower engine.
Now that I am five years old--a whole hand, as it were--I see the world in a different light. Sometimes, it's the nightlight as I try to read in bed long past my bedtime, in clear defiance of my parents. Sometimes it's the light from the oven, as it cooks my delicious chicken nuggets. Sometimes it's the light coming from my new Star Wars Clone Turbo Tank; how does one brush his teeth without the accompaniment of a Clone Turbo Tank?
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