Stan was trying to find a topic to write about for his college paper, but he had nothing. Hours of brainstorming ideas had amounted to zilch, so he turned to more personal topics.
He thought about the time he’d woken up from a rest to find that monkeys playing tambourines had surrounded him, and requested that he accompany them in Monkey Music Land. Stan had rubbed his eyes, sure he was still dreaming, but the primates were still there. “What the heck,” he’d thought, and gone to join them.
“Nah. I’m looking for FICTION,” Stan lamented. “On to Plan B.”
He thought about the time he’d woken up from a rest to find that monkeys playing tambourines had surrounded him, and requested that he accompany them in Monkey Music Land. Stan had rubbed his eyes, sure he was still dreaming, but the primates were still there. “What the heck,” he’d thought, and gone to join them.
“Nah. I’m looking for FICTION,” Stan lamented. “On to Plan B.”
