Bub.  Bub.  Bubbles.  They cling to everything.  Bub.  The sides of the glass.  My treasure chest.  My, Bub, artificial plants.  Bubbles.  They make my day.  I float here, in the middle of the water.  And they stick to things on the bottom.  And they, Bub, come out, of my mouth.  Bub.  And float.  Happy bubbles.  They float to the surface.  Bub.  Right up there.  Food.  The hand is dropping food.  That means, Bub, I’ll have to.  Move.


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