Crawling towards the round spot of light, br (a spot light) br in the middle of the floor; (everything br else black) you start digging br the carpet br with your fingernails, scratching orange br fibers. Fur is flying and br shards of padding br hit the ceiling. You dig like a backhoe in br chocolate ice cream, br trying to get back into her. br Now, you scrape through br hardwood floors and black concrete the br hole is getting deeper; finally hitting sweet br green grass; br you keep it going with a br frown. Digging, digging, br digging past the br forefathers, grandfathers, grandmothers br Past: br Edger Allen Poe, Dante, Mr. Cummings, br Ted Williams, American Indians. br Past dog br bones. Past locomotives that became br washing machines. br Only your feet and ankles are br visible now sticking out of your br hole! In your room, br I stroll over. I tickle those toes. br You shake. In your hole, I hear you br giggle.