When I was four, I didn’t even know about the world, and now me and Ma are going to live in it forever and ever until we’re dead. This is a street in a city in a country called America, and Earth, that’s a blue and green planet, always spinning, so I don’t know why we don’t fall off. Then, there’s Outer Space and nobody knows where’s Heaven. Ma and I have decided that because we don’t know what we like, we get to try everything. There are so many things out here. And sometimes, it’s scary, but that’s okay, because it’s still just you and me.
There’s so much of place in the world. There’s less time, because the time has to be spread extra thin over all the places, like butter. So all the persons say, “Hurry up! Let’s get going! Pick up the pace! Finish up now!”. Ma was in a hurry to go boing up to Heaven, but she forgot me, dumbo Ma. So the aliens threw her back down, crash! And broke her.
One, two, three… There’s Room, then outer space, with all the TV planets, then Heaven. Plant is real, but not trees. Spiders are real, and one time the mosquito that was sucking my blood. But squirrels and dogs are just TV, except Lucky. He’s my dog who might come some day. Monsters are too big to be real, and the sea. TV persons are flat and made of colours. But me and you are real.
Once upon a time, before I came, you cried and cried and watched TV all day, until you were a zombie, but then I zoomed down from Heaven through skylight into Room. Whoosh-pshew! And I was kicking you from the inside. Boom, boom! And then I shot out onto Rug with my eyes wide open, and you cutt-ed the cord and said, “Hello, Jack.”
I’ve been in the world 37 hours. I’ve seen pancakes, and a stairs, and birds, and windows, and hundreds of cars, and clouds, and police, and doctors, and Grandma and Grandpa. But Ma says they don’t live together in the hammock house anymore. Grandma lives there with her friend, Leo, now, and Grandpa lives far away. I’ve seen persons with different faces and bigness and smells, talking all together. The world’s like all TV planets on at the same time, so I don’t know which way to look and listen. There’s doors and more doors, and behind all the doors, there’s another inside, and another outside, and things happen, happen, happening. It never stops. Plus, the world’s always changing brightness and hotness, and there’s invisible germs floating everywhere. When I was small, I only knew small things, but now I’m five, I know everything.