"'En... lil bird saw... a lion. 'Hello ... Lion,' said... lil bird. 'Wha you do--'"
"HEN," interrupted K.
My eyes popped open and I saw him pointing indignantly to the picture of the hen in "Are You My Mother?" "Sorry, hen," I said, and managed to get through the next dozen or so pages without dozing off again. (In my defense, it was our fifth time through.)
Starting from about seventh grade, all my school notebooks occasionally degenerate into scribbles where I fell asleep. You can make out a few words here and there, but they are purely the result of random synapse firing.
Apparently I can not only write in my sleep, I can read in my sleep too. Is that talent or what?
Monday, 20 April 2009
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