My pen rests tightly against the paper. Thousands and thousands of doddles stare at me from the paper sheets that lay strewn on the floors of my home. If only I could communicate.
My pen moves… Readers a million apologies if you find my words hard to understand. As the keeper of the records I must listen to all who live in this realm.
May Laozi help me. How does one record the tribulations of this world. Perhaps I will have another jiaozi… now will that be fried or boiled, or even steamed. Maybe I should try them all.