The Old Garage

As I walk into the ancient rusty garage a pile of dust hits my face “achoo” I sneeze. I look around up and down where am I it smells like Meow Meow when she is drenched. It sounds like cats scratching on the fluffy toasty rug. I walk outside. The door just able to shut. Outside the garage still stand tall and strong all day and night every year windy or not.


Mahana

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