The Hole In The Box

Awaiting adventure the wild boy thrashes about in his pace. Always asking “what?”, a repitition game. His smile controlled, as he pokes and plays practicing his gimmicks, songs, and stories. Always fully entertained, always entertaining, awaiting to be entertained, distracting entertainment, patiently impatient, awaiting adventure while adventuring.

His pops taught him well in the many adventures of his young years and never ending games they play.

The obnoxious grows and swells within the wild boy as it struggles to free the overloading energy contained in his young heart.

Frenzied excitement propagates upon the escalation of his full ranged stereo sound little voice. A voice that conjures fantastical stories and imagined words to the bang of a drum and crash of the calamity that follows his toy strewn path. His tiny monster smile and innocent sapphire eyes, always holding new ideas, new way's to get lost today, signature of his play.

The mess he creates making a hole in this box…I just couldn’t bring my heart to tell him to stop as his sawing stick continues to rip through pixelated crumbling with a wiggling squeal shred. I bet his pops will enjoy the story; watching the styrofoam particles blow in the wind.

His father approaches with a confused look sighting the mess and my grin.

The excitement echoing as their dream team is reunited again.

It’s time for some cleanup and this short story to end!

The wild boy I watch now departing with laughs and singing song; returned to his kin.

Their play running as a team, always, smiles and laughter coming in waves.

Image: Daily Painter- Abstract Black Hole Rise at the Bay