story_world
epitome of incomprehensibility
I'm
a
story
girl
,
in
a
story
world
.
Or
not
,
but
I
woke
up
early
because
of
my
stuffy
nose
and
was
reading
.
When
my
parents
came
to
tell
me
they
were
leaving
(
and
it
was
to
be
for
two
days
),
I
had
a
momentary
sense
of
worry
because
I'd
just
been
reading
the
part
in
The_Story_Girl
when
most
of
the
responsible
adults
take
off
for
a
wedding
and
shenanigans ensue.
But
I
was
an
adult
,
I
recollected.
My
brother
too
.
So
all
I
had
to
do
was
ask
a
couple
questions
about
the
food
in
the
fridge
and
our
consumption
thereof.
We
were
set
.
Set
for
what
?
For
me
to
have
a
cold
and
read
kids'
books
when
I
wasn't
working
.
Oh
yes
,
and
have
the
dog
be
a
copydog
on
a
walk
.
250618
...
raze
my
father
and
i
used
to
live
in
a
world
like
this
.
not
a
physical
place
,
but
a
fortress
we
erected
around
and
inside
our
minds
.
we
were
always
telling
stories
.
taking
people
from
our
lives
and
dropping
them
into
impossible
and
outlandish
situations.
pounding
out
crooked
poetry
on
electric
typewriters
and
early
desktop
computers
.
some
of
our
narratives
were
left
to
live
as
spoken
hymns,
meant
only
for
an
audience
of
two
.
for
years
,
we
could
spin
epic yarns
out
of
nothing
at
a
moment's
notice
.
i
don't
know
why
that
went
away
.
i
don't
know
where
i
would
go
to
look
for
that
kind
of
creative
energy
now
.
i
don't
think
it's
in
me
anymore
.
but
it
was
a
great
ride
while
it
lasted.
250618
what's it to you?
who
go
blather
from