Musashi Sez:
Ther ar timz to stand, an ther is tim to run.
I ran.
Throo streetz. Around hoomin peeples. Ovr froot stallz an between bildinz. Instinkt led me. I followd.
The raw myoozik of the bazaar, hoomin voisiz an aminal voisiz, roz togethr in a simfonee of urjensee. I ran lik I had nevr run befor. I leepd! bildins and slithrd between stallz. I yowld an hisst wen hoominz thretnd to get in mai wae. They springd asyd. Huh.
(Wudn’t yu? I bet eevn mai mom wud, if she sawd me lik that. Pertee amayzin whut terrir kin do fer a feller in a hurree. Thoz Lympic athleet fellerz shud trai it.)
Fynlee feelin mai strenkth runnin out, I srtchd mai surroundins fer a plays to go to groun, but no luk. Still, I is a resorsful kittee, as M alwaes sez. If I kin’t go to groun, kin I goes up?
An ther, rizin befor me wuz the stranjist tree I evr saw, all trunk curvin up wift a wig of leevs on top. I didn’t stop to thingk, I jus kept runnin and ran up that tree liks a skwirrul. I reetchd the top an was pantin an pantin an tremblin, remememberin how them bullets had hit the dirt jus nex to me! I still hadz the dirt in mai eyes from the sprayback.
But, thangks be to Ceiling Cat, I wus sayf!
I wuz, I gots to admit, sittin in a big ol nest of leevs 25 feet in the air, shur. But othr than that, I wuz sayf.
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