One Sunday afternoon I decided to sit outside my house and listen to the birds chirp. Yea, I listen to the birds chirp, don’t hate. I then knew I was going to regret that the moment this small gnome came over to me and started to talk. I sighed angrily as he started to talk about what was really going on in the world. To tell you the truth I could really care less about the earth and what is going on in it. I zoned out and nodded my head as if I was listening. It’s what I do when I don’t really want to listen. I looked at the red pointy hat that was the size of his small little body. His plaid shirt was tucked into his brown shorts. But his beard covered most of that. He continued to talk about the problems in his life and what Mrs. Horton really did when Mr. Horton left the house for work. I rolled my eyes and sighed out loud yet he still didn’t leave. I got up from the porch and went behind my house. He followed me. I went into to my garden shed and tried to find something that would get rid of the damn gnome. First of all I was a little creeped out because gnomes aren’t supposed to talk. Second of all, they shouldn’t be moving. Third of all, well I was just totally annoyed. I looked behind my lawn mower and grabbed the sludge hammer that was hanging on the wall. I turned around and raised the sludge hammer and brought it down hard, smashing the gnome in millions of pieces. There…that’s my blog about that gnome. That is the last time I blog about a gnome.
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