A man came to inspect my pickling crock.
He was an odd-looking man, about yay tall.
“This crock is cracked,” he announced,
and began to write on a clipboard.
Hearing high-pitched laughter I whirled
around and noticed several boys had gathered
outside my bay window to witness this
interaction. My goodness, boys!
Go out and find someone else to bug!
• • •
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