Spiky-haired boy: Discussion 3, Row 15

He’ll climb down from the heavens and through the bus window, then unsheathe his board and cut away at the hair that binds us. The wheels of the great skateboard rolling over the hair, tearing it from its roots. Will he let us ride the board? Will he teach us? He will reach out to us with gnarled knots for hands. How did his hands get that way? Isn’t he supposed to be perfect? We will climb up his branches, using the whorls and tumorous bumps for handholds. I don’t see this. I’m having a hard time picturing this. He will then take his great board and hold it aloft so we may stand on it and rise into the heavens. I knew he’d let us ride it. Will he teach us to ride a half pipe? By such means shall we move into the fourth age where life will be beautiful. Everything beautiful and clean. How do you know this? Will his skateboard be big enough for all of us to fit? Will we have to wear helmets and kneepads? You cannot enter the fourth age with questions. How do you know? Do not question me. Why? I’m not answering any more. Why?