They found a big pile of sticks.
I watched them play in the sticks.
The cedars of Lebanon whispered in the windy distance.
The boy got up close and personal.
Sticks and stones may break their bones and words are stuck inside me.
They’ll come out eventually.
They like playing in the pile of sticks.
I like watching them play in the sticks.
I can’t think of anything to write here.
I guess I could’ve left it blank but that’s okay.