((Author's note: I decided to try something new with this one. Different format, really, just for kicks. Creeper nostalgia-stuff. I'm really wondering now if these should be rated R rather than PG-13...

By the way, I looked back and saw that my other chapters are pretty short, so I decided to do a little extra writing. Enjoy, kiddies!))

Does every human think that the Earth is one big garbage can? I would assume so, considering that some little shit threw something into my home today. Someone chucked a kiwi fruit down here. Right through the sewage pipe.

After a little dining out, I settled in for the night and continued on an acquisition from earlier yesterday. Each stitch was as boring as the previous, and I became indisposed after a short while. The little crow was eyeing the kiwi as I sat, so I decided to do something with it before it ended up as more bird shit on my already dingy truck. I had nothing against the button-eyed friend, but I really didn't feel up to cleaning my car.

I adjusted my seat on the stool and looked across my work-desk at the brown fuzzy fruit sitting and staring at me with age-spotted eyes, just as the crow was looking down at me from the rafters.

I couldn't eat the fruit for obvious reasons, but I really needed to do SOMETHING with it. I dropped the needle, scooted on the stool, and picked the furry fruit up between two claws. The crow barked at me, as if to warn me not to eat it.

"Don't worry." I barked back, fingering the almost-warm surface of the kiwi. Inspiration struck.

I grabbed a scalpel off the table and sliced at the skin of the fruit until all that was left was a pulpy green ball of flesh. I rolled the skin in-between my fingers until it was tightly wound and almost stick-like. I jammed the sticks back into the green ball so that it was balanced atop two "legs." I used needles for the arms, and carved out a face with the scalpel. The warm flesh was sticky and damp from the humidity. My fingers felt gooey.

The crow barked at me again, eyeing the little stick doll hungriliy and fluttering its wings. I looked up at it, grimacing, and it settled down. An empty sigh halfheartedly escaped my dry, leathery lips.

Before I had time to waste more time, the crow swooped down from above and devoured my new 'friend.' I shrugged, and continued to work.

Why the hell did I just waste a half hour of my 23 days carving a fucking KIWI?

WHY THE HELL DIDNT I JUST PRESERVE IT AND THROW IT AT SOMEONE LIKE A WEAPON???

WHY THE HELL COULDN'T I THINK OF SOMETHING MORE PRODUCTIVE TO DO WITH MY TIME??????

It suddenly occurred to me why:

I needed "a life."