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Crickets

I took out a book at the library that a friend recommended for me. I haven’t read it yet but it smells like soap – the good kind, like ivory snow. Not like public washrooms soap. This can only be a good thing.

It reminds me of the basement of Salamagundi where there are those huge Chinese medicine cabinets full of tchotchkes and things, every drawer a surprise! That place is like a wunderkammer of awesome.

One time we took my sister down there and bought her a little cricket box. You know the kind – it’s cardboard, covered in cheap brocade and inside there are crickets and they chirp. Close the box and the music is gone. Open it up and there it is!

But how does it work? We couldn’t tell. It was magic!

It had a strong soapy odour, not unlike this book.

My sister decided that she wanted to hear the crickets outside her window so she placed the open box outside underneath the pine tree. I wondered how long the cricket sound would last.

After a few days I told her that she should bring it inside. It was going to rain or the thing would get dirty. She wouldn’t and she didn’t. It rained.

One Response to “Crickets”

  1. Abby Says:

    I thought we bought the cricket box in Barkerville.

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