a pony went to sea

It’s been 126 days since I turned the last page of Les Miserables.

If there’s one thing a reader learns to appreciate in the vastness of Hugo’s work, it’s the importance of details.

They’re not so small after all.

They might be small things at first. But they become quite large when properly inflated.

For Hugo a detail is the literary equivalent of a balloon. When expanded details are dwellings that get bigger the further you go in. Like a convent. Or a barricade. Or a sewer system.

Anyhow, the detail that matters to me now is not that I finished a big book 126 days ago, although I’m aware of how little I read nowadays — and even less often blog.

No, it’s a little detail in the form of a short story spoken by my son and carefully penned to paper.

It goes a little something like this.

A pony went to sea.
Him went in the shark’s mouth and saw a letter in it and it was a gulp.
After that, them went to eat some snack.
Them went to sea on a sailboat, them went to sea in a shark’s mouth and he got some water in his mouth.
After that, them met another pony friend.

As a friend of mine quipped, them are some fine words.

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