In The Narrow Caves of The Lounge Maker

Early Mud

Untold and unseen the steady nods of a once happy child echo in the distance. James is a misunderstood boy. Born in the 60's he lived in a happy family, In which he get's whatever he wants. Where he imagination can thrive in the cool 72 degree weather. Something previously untold in a world living in a small town to the east of San Francisco. With no less that 2 siblings and one mother the shy boy ran and ran casing the dreams he so desired with more excitement than ever, because everyone in the world is good and can do no harm. Of course that isn't true, but certainly it was to a 3 year old James. Obviously the untold philosophy of all humanity is that everyone is truly a savant. All roaming idiots fighting each other looking for the sickening satisfaction of lust and greed.

But nothing mattered. Not to him. To him his world was only playing and fun. Sliding through the fresh yet wet grass and playing the amazing fun games he thought were just fun. Nothing more than a little diversion. Of course his speech was limited and his morals weren't fully developed. But that was to be expected. Not like a toddler was going to be born an intellectual. He only spoke in short phrases, always thinking of something. Nothing was ever left out. Never a small break for his mind to suck in more energy to keep going. Instead he lived his life to the absolute fullest. Always asking questions and always roaming the small tan house thinking about the wonders of the world. Who were the real champions? 

And most importantly, was he special? But this scene would only last short while as his imagination expanded. Narrow caves. Narrow caves of the lounge maker. The muddy banks of the wishkah.