Green Man

I know a little man whom I’ve known a little while. I see him every day as I walk to school, my school, Robert Frost Middle School. I don’t like it there, but I like to see the little man.

He is a green man. He lives in the 15 feet of woods I cut through on my way from our subdivision to the school. It’s a shortcut. If you drive you have to go the long way around. The green man thinks this is funny.

I’m not green, and I’m not little any more. I used to be quite small. Then, last year, I grew. That was exciting. The green man thinks this is funny too.

No one else says hello to the green man. I watch them, when they don’t know that I am, of course. I think they see him, but they do not know to say hello. I think it is rude. The green man tells me to be patient.

One day the green man was missing. But he was back the next day. He had a tie, like the ones my dad wears to work at the bank. I thought this was terribly funny. The green man says it is not funny. He’s an odd little man.

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