These are my sheep.
I did not draw these sheep but they are my sheep.
They did not start out to be my sheep.
But they are my sheep now.
I'll short story these sheep for you.
Once upon a time I had a cousin.
His name was George.
He was an artist.
I loved George more than anything in the world.
We were kindred spirits.
Heart and soul.
Together always.
Until two kids smashed his head in with a cement block.
Then we weren't together any more.
Before the smashing, George would draw and I would write.
We were going to be famous.
Famous in that spectacular way you believe you'll be when you are young.
George believed that even more than I.
But George can't be here now so he left me his sheep.
I hadn't thought about these sheep in a great long while.
Until now.
I'll share these sheep with you.
I can do that, for they are my sheep now.
~
M.
Rabitta was the name of the Princess in our beloved story, Overkill.
The story we'll never get to finish.
George always called me Rabitta.
I called him Sir Puss.
This notation is in a 100 year old copy of a Dickens collection.
Like I said, George always believed we'd be famous.
~from George to me.......
who could have said how prophetic these words would be?
Thank you for reminding me of these sheep.
They have been too long neglected.
~