Life better now. Easier. No adult. Only children and animal. Why? Why anything? Why sun fall down? Why ant crawl onto pangolin tongue?
If other way round, if only adult, no children: chaos. But we children? We fine. Children adapt. Animal survive.
Like pangolin. Long tongue, all cover with ant. Sticky there, like fly paper in kitchen from time before. I like to watch fly back then. I like to watch fly right now. Some things still same.
I always behind pangolin. Hard feet in dirt-dust. Been following pangolin long time. Feet hard because of road, like pangolin shell. Feet Mama used to hold, Papa used to tickle. Mama always stop when I say STOP. Papa not. Papa tickle ’til Mama turn cold on him. Don’t miss him. Mama. Mama always at something. Stone eyes with hornets in them. Stored up. Waiting to fly, sting. Don’t miss her.
I camp when hot light in sky. Sometime other children, most time alone. Alone make me happy, road make me happy, pangolin make me happy. Small feet, small sounds. No noise but me and him and road.
Pangolin, he happy too. Walk, eat, sleep. I too. Walk, sleep. Sleep. Burrow into soil at first light. Curl up like pangolin. Every day same until today. I find big rock. Go to pangolin. Tickle feet first. Shell hard but flesh soft. Red. Wet in mouth. Eat, eat, eat. Wait for moon come back. Wake up. Find new pangolin to follow. Walk. Smile.
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