The Thing At 52

There’s a Thing on my street. He lives at number 52. I see him sitting in his front yard when I walk to school. He was big and lumbering and a wore a tiny top hat perched on top of his rather large head. She didn’t think he had any friends, so she brought him a flower. It wasn’t long before their friendship bloomed. The Thing was gentle and kind and the adventures they went on were the best she could ever imagine. The girl soon discovered that there were many Things, living all over the place, which gave her an idea. She invited them all to a party, and the Things danced till midnight. Thing had never felt so happy. But one day the Thing had to go and their adventures came to an end. All Things have to go sometime.

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