It's another dull, rainy Sunday morning in Purcell as you rise from your bed to find that both of your parents have already left for work. Your mother has, as usual, left you a note on the kitchen table:
"Charlie,
Your father and I won't be back until after your bedtime. I've prepared your breakfast, lunch and dinner and left them in the fridge.
Love,
Mom"
She always writes the exact same letter every morning before leaving for work. Part of you wonders if she just wrote a whole stack of the notes months ago, pulling from the pile to save time in her morning routine. Is that sort of efficient corner-cutting something she would do? You don't really remember.
After breakfast, you find your way back to your bedroom. Your friends won't be able to walk here in the rain, so you're going to have to entertain yourself for today.
Digging through your closet, you find a dusty old plastic tub full of modeling clay, something your uncle mailed to you for a birthday years ago. You were never much of a sculpting type, so you hadn't even opened the thing before pushing it into the back of the closet. At this point, though, anything sounded more fun than your usual dolls and action figures.
The label of the tub refers to the substance inside as "Living Clay". Shrugging, you pop it open, grab a handful, and start rolling a relatively uninspired clay snake. It's entertaining for a second or two, but then the rush of creating something starts to fade away and you set it down on the desk.
Suddenly, it starts slithering around on its own. Fascinating!
As you watch your clay snake wander the desk, you consider what you should create next.