You look at me and see a giraffe, long neck, square spots, lips for gripping leaves. Look past my surface. See my shadow, my pointy ears and swishing tail. Which one is real, you wonder. The light that hits me, or the light I block? Am I an herbivore or a carnivore who eats just enough grass to vomit on the carpet? I am this and that and more. I walk proud, humble, fearless, terrified. I sit in the sun and the rain. I live today full as a baked potato, and soon enough I'll be among soil and roots.
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StretchesThe brain needs to stretch before working out just as much as the body. Welcome to my stretch zone of stories in 100 words, and perhaps other bits. Archives
September 2019
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