five bags of soil

[buttonless]

So about that whole freaky world changing thing.

[After nursing seven million insect bites and minor sunburn, Coraline's finally getting a start on what she meant to do before the entire summer camp debacle: gardening. This afternoon, she's attempting to carry a bag of soil and a tin box down the lobby stairs. Her journal is resting on top of the box, picking up the metallic rattling of her trowel.]

I heard that was someone's home we went to. Someone in the castle. [A pause.] Could we get sent to other people's homes too? Does that happen a lot?

[She pauses again.]

I mean, I'm just curious. I guess Oregon would be a pretty boring place to go.




[Rue]

I think I'm gonna go plant some cucumbers! Do you want to help?

Comments

[buttonless]

Mine has a talking cat, but none of that other stuff. At least, that I know of.

[amiable]

Is it a magical cat?

[buttonless]

I don't know, it just talks!

[amiable]

I've never met a cat back home that could talk.

[buttonless]

Maybe not on your Earth.

[amiable]

What else does yours have?

[buttonless]

Rain. Rocks. Mud. Nothing special.

1/2

[amiable]

[amiable]

It's your home, though! There has to be something special about it.

[buttonless]

Well, I guess it has people that I know. And my family's stupid new house, and our weird new neighbors. And somewhere on it is Michigan, and my old friends.

[amiable]

And one day, you'll see them again! So it'll be even more special.