Perspective

Jane and John lived in a house.
A pretty house. A brown house.
Jane and John had two children.
Pretty children: Mary and Bill.
Mary and Bill had a pet.
A pretty pet. A pet named Spot.
Jane and John had a garden.
A pretty garden. A garden with fruit.
One day, Spot played in the garden.
He found something there.
Something not pretty.
Something white and black
that squeaked and wriggled.
Spot was mad.
This didn’t belong in Jane and John’s pretty garden.
Spot took it to Mary and Bill.
“Bad Spot!” they yelled.
They didn’t want to touch it.
Spot took it to Jane.
Jane screamed.
She was scared of the something.
Spot was sad.
Spot took it to John.
“Good Spot,” said John and took it from Spot
and threw it away from the pretty house
and the pretty garden
and pretty Spot, Mary, Bill and Jane.
There it lay, until
another white and black thing came.
This thing was upset.
It cried out,
“Oh my god! Scott, get mission control. Hurry! Tell them I’ve found Walderman. It’s Walderman and I don’t know if he’s alive.”

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