writing doodle

There once was a girl,
who had a little curl,
right in the middle of her head.

How does this apply to poodles who fear puddles and search for cuddles?

the soundtrack ...

He never saw her that she didn't have a far away look on her face.  The rest of the world moved at one pace, and she at another.  The people around him seemed to trudge from place to place, she danced to her destination.  There was never an indication of earbuds or headphones.  Could she be just like his crazy uncle Hal who had conversations with President Lincoln or was she more like the professional ballerina he dated so long ago who practiced constantly?

What was the soundtrack that moved her? Shaped her? Would he ever know?  Did it even matter?

brief doodle

The house was cluttered beyond anyone's imagining, but until the object of her desire was found, there would be no rest for the weary.