Here a little child I stand, / Heaving up my either hand; […]
In its final form it might be a phatasmagoric mixture of the poem in prose, the popular tale of folklore, the psychograph, the essay, the myth, the saga, the humoresque.
The second last Thursday in first term of Year Nine, Jason and I bludged school for the first time together. It wasn't Jason's first time. He bludged school regularly, but I never used to miss days unless I was really sick.
I remember at school when unspillable inkpots came in and were said to be a brilliant new idea.
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