Porcelain Hands

Boy number 4 used to be a bat but now, instead of flying, he simply walked on air.

            The over-excited, eight-dimensional butterflies in his head had all fortunately had the same thought, and, therefore, eventually.

            The over-excited, eight-dimensional butterflies in his head were now watching the re-run on their DVD players whilst refusing to eat breakfast. Again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

            They had to wear over-excited, eight-dimensional butterfly sunglasses because the picture was so bright despite the fact that it was nearly pumpkin time; they hadn’t needed to turn the volume down, as they were only watching the silent bits, as over-excited, eight-dimensional butterflies are wont to do.

            It was a sunny day.

Ad infinitum.