I suppose if I lived on an island, I’d play all day.
I wouldn’t have to worry about whether I’d work for a living.
I’d spend much of my time looking for food, and building a shelter, and finding ways to keep warm.
I suppose I wouldn’t play all that much.
But there wouldn’t be anyone there to cook for me, and call me home when the dusk settled in.
In fact I believe I could stake a claim in the soft dirt, and let the backstop keep the wind from rushing toward me.
The lines would keep out neighbors, should they ever come to pass.
Of course there’s home; that much is central.
I think I could fall asleep here just fine.
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