I present for your reading pleasure, this utter fabrication, a work (but not the kind without play) of (im)pure fiction, peppered liberally with fact. Out of order, sans context or perspective, the record of a family vacation in Colorado.
Transcribed from my illegible pen-and-pad writings, from the thin pads and cheap pens that sit idly by the dusty in-room hotel telephone; the kind you only use to call the front desk before you leave in the morning to say that there's something wrong with the toilet, and could they send maintenance up, because you just can't bear to look the front-desk clerk in the eye and explain that you shat it up yourself.
That kind of pad.
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