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(Part 9ub of 11)
One word bounced around until it found its way into mother soil. It produced at least thirty babies in one week. Each child needing attention, wanting attention, crying out, Kaing Out.
You know the kind of children I'm talking about.
As I try to feed each one, one by one, each one ends up needing more attention.
I try, but I can't.
And so I give each one minimal attention and jump back and forth, all over the place, hopping, hoping all of them will go to sleep, except one. Some of them do, for days at a time.
So I stay awake as long as I can, attending to the rest of them, barely eating myself.
Most of the time, I fall asleep sitting straight up, with them on my lap.
They have somehow managed to enter my dreams and explain things they need to help them grow.
When I wake up, there are more babies than when I went to sleep. The babies are having babies.
There they are, staring at me, looking innocent.
So I pick them up and pour into them, energy received through nurturing them.
Meanwhile my wife keeps having more children.
She says its my fault because she gets pregnant by deep thought.