The mystery of you makes me smile. I don’t know why someone chose to put you on their lawn, but I’m glad they did. I wonder if they made you or bought you from some art gallery or a thrift store. I wonder what other people think when they see you. I see story ideas. But I always see stories.
In my mind, you were found. A bit of trash left near the curb by a frustrated artist. But you were seen, taken and given a fresh coat of paint then placed in the front yard to protect the house.
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