The way she saw the world tended to make everything more than it was. She'd get overwhelmed and bump into things. She preferred the small exact folds in her tiny coloured squares of paper, plain and patterned, covered with four-petaled flowers or stripes or diamonds, which were suddenly birds. One fold at a time.
When she looked around her house, she saw many more cranes than there really were, a folded faceted flock of thousands. She smiled.
Moral: for the bruises, wear knee-pads. Otherwise, your eyes are fine.
2 comments:
O I love the clumsy bee. If only her tale were longer still.
Thanks for this.
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