The ghost of Charles Dickens came by today. I always love when Dickens comes to visit. He talks so fast that it sounds like one long word that is very interesting. Kind of like a flute. Sometimes I'll close my eyes and listen to his music.
Dickens was carrying on for a while and he suddenly stopped. I opened my eyes because I figured he had left. Ghosts never say goodbye. I think it's because they know there is no end to anything. But then there he was, not talking.
Dickens finally said, "Oh my, I pontificate rhapsodically but it must be like a snake without an end to its tail."
I said, "No, it's good."
Dickens said, "No, my fine friend. Let's say that the season of this moment has fallen in your favor. What have you to say?"
I said, "I think sitting on my couch is underrated."
Dickens said, "Succinct is the Brooks."
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