I think A Lion in My Closet is my favorite story because I tried to put a twist on the ending. The last sentence is a little cut off. It reads, “I was happy to see her.”
Apparently, I was also a poetic prodigy when I was six. If you can't read it:
"There once was a lonely dog who lived for just a while, when he used to make phonecalls, he always had to dile."
My sister Rieley, ever the Serieli to my Mozart, crossed out my poem in favor of her opus "animals":
"Once There were a bunch of animals and they fought. The meat eaters fought about their food. The plant eaters fought about what they wanted to play. Soon they got togeather, and they all played togeather, and ate togeather.
And then, to spite me further, she provided an illustration of Littlefoot and his grandfather.