“I knelt in the dirt and picked up the soiled paper.

But not wanting a dagger in the ribs I scurried off.

‘Really, why would you think such a thing,’ I asked myself incredulously?

As if my scurrilous fictions hadn’t already gotten me in enough trouble with my guardians who were tired of hearing of the goblins who waged war outside our windows on a nightly basis.”

I paused for effect, allowing my words to float over the crowd like so many colored bubbles before they popped in a final iridescent spasm, unsubstantiated by my own miserable existence in a white suburban neighborhood surrounded by a loving family and well-groomed pets.