Me be Monster.

Almost all the leaves have left the branches of the trees and left them looking forlorn and stark.
When me be walking along the road me foot falls make an odd rustling sound on the carpet.

It be good that me stompin takes on a subdued feelin from time to time. It let's me sneak up on unsuspecting peoples and gives me some time to observe their goings on.

Kids at play never cease to amaze one Scary Monster. They be able to make even the most trivial object into an amusement of one sort or another. Me happened upon a gathering of boys thet were battling the hardened ground with the most unusual implements. One kid had a ski, another had a tree branch and the third had a cracked, blue plastic pail. They must've gotten them at the nearby housing garbage dump.

Me can remember the days when Me were just a tadpole and there were adventures of every kind located just behind me home or on the walk home from school. Looking back, as old bastids are wont to do, Me can recall the frivolity and restlessness of me time as a mini-monster.

When ya come to the midway of a trip and the shores are both far and near and equidistant, there be a tremulous disturbance in the spirit. Ya can look back and recall all the things that brought you this far or ya can face the wind and ride on into where the waves take you. When ya come to the end of a trip ya can look back or ya can take off yer shoes. Iffin ya just be startin out on a journey then there be nuthin but the open road ahead of ya.

There me be starin at some kids diggina hole and thinkin about the times when me done did the same damn thang and me goes up to asks them where they goin. Where the heck do ya think ya gonna end up? The kid holdin the broken plastic bucket looks up at an old man who got no business disturbin the rhythm of fun and sez... America!

Me no never did get to China.