So you're good at putting together puzzles. All that proves is that you're a sheep. Baaaaa.
Say what you want about childhood, but it's not always as easy as ABC and 123. Life is a puzzle, and Ella wasn't quite sure how all the pieces fit.
She didn't understand what the big deal was. So the fish want to go hang with the farm animals, and the neighborhood pets want to go on safari with some of their more exotic counterparts. Is that really so wrong?
But no. That is not allowed. The co-mingling of painted animals is strictly forbidden. There is a place for every one and every one has their precisely carved place. Poetic, really. The empty silhouettes are not unlike the chalk outlines you find at crime scenes.
And what a crime it is. The pressure to fit in. The rigidity of the predetermined boundaries. Well if this is the way it has to be, Ella would simply not participate.
She stared at the toppled wooden puzzle case, the pieces from six different puzzles all jumbled together. She smiled. They were all misfits.