Metamorphosis of Pocket Puppets (via Karin’s Charivari)

Metamorphosis of Pocket Puppets It wasn’t that I was hiding, crouched on the floor in the closet door sewing a substitute for a snap onto a blouse, but I didn’t want him to see. I could hear him, banging up the stairs, and I hoped he’d turn away. But he shuffled toward me, huffing, snorting, talking to the clay cat I knew he held in his hand and he was assigning me tasks—shape the clay into a different cat, and after that, a cat that was different from the different one, all di … Read More

via Karin's Charivari

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