Before long, his soft, mossy shell was hard again. It almost sparkled under his sunlamp-my little nieces, my brother's three girls, thought it looked like gold and asked if he was magic. I thought so.
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The runaway writer, making every day an adventure.
Before long, his soft, mossy shell was hard again. It almost sparkled under his sunlamp-my little nieces, my brother's three girls, thought it looked like gold and asked if he was magic. I thought so.