Pronounce the g's
The gnome on my windowsill told me not to do it. The sun was making his face burn, he said, so stop gnawing and move me into the shade. That’s what he said. After I had made significant progress on the twine, that’s when I picked him up. I told him to stop bossing me around, because he is only plastic. Not to mention 10 inches tall. I put him back down in the same spot, to see if he would notice. He isn’t too clever, this gnome. But I guess more so than I thought. The screech coming from him was enough to get anyone to obey.He was perpetually gnoming up my day.What I was doing with the twine was I was gnawing it. Incidentally, I was also gnawing on my lip. Only this was by accident. I was trying to untie a package. Who ties packages with twine these days? It’s the twenty-first century for crying out loud. I didn’t really. Naturally, this whole conversation was in my head.Inside was a pot. Inside the pot was dirt. Inside the dirt was a seed, which was now a bursting orchid. Bursting in that it was purple and heliotrope and then bright white. Bursting with color.I put it into the sun filled spot previously occupied by Grumpy McGnomey. HA! I told him, this orchid won’t complain. Finally I can have some peace and quiet around here.