Between the Lines
“My mother is right. I need more sleep. It’s bad enough that I’m talking to a book, much less entertaining the thought of how to get a character out of it.
“I don’t think it works that way,” I say. “It’s not like springing someone out of jail—”
“I’m hardly a felon!”
“No, you’re a two-dimensional, inch-high illustration,” I point out. “If you were to get out, what would you do? Live in a shoe box? Be Flat Stanley?”
“Who’s Flat Stanley?”
“Another fictional character,” I say. I have a sudden flash ...of second grade, when my teacher had us take our cutouts of Flat Stanley all around the world during spring break. My mother and I took pictures of him in Boston, eating clam chowder and waving at the seals in the aquarium.
So maybe Oliver isn’t the first fictional character with a hankering to travel.
“You don’t know that I’d stay this size. Perhaps I’d be scaled to fit your world, if I were lucky enough to reach it.”
“Why are we even discussing this?”MoreLess
“I don’t think it works that way,” I say. “It’s not like springing someone out of jail—”
“I’m hardly a felon!”
“No, you’re a two-dimensional, inch-high illustration,” I point out. “If you were to get out, what would you do? Live in a shoe box? Be Flat Stanley?”
“Who’s Flat Stanley?”
“Another fictional character,” I say. I have a sudden flash ...of second grade, when my teacher had us take our cutouts of Flat Stanley all around the world during spring break. My mother and I took pictures of him in Boston, eating clam chowder and waving at the seals in the aquarium.
So maybe Oliver isn’t the first fictional character with a hankering to travel.
“You don’t know that I’d stay this size. Perhaps I’d be scaled to fit your world, if I were lucky enough to reach it.”
“Why are we even discussing this?”MoreLess
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