Where’s the boy?
He’s in that strange sculpture garden down near the lock by the river.
He has his stuffed tiger laid out in front of him and he’s crying over it.
Oh? Is that it?
That’s what I thought. So, Mr. Wiseguy, what did you say to him this time?
He asked what the stones were for. He mentioned aliens or something.
Right. And you said?
I told him that the sculpture garden was a graveyard.
To be more precise, I said that it was a cemetery for imaginary friends.
Word count = 97
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The first thing I thought was “Cemetery for Imaginary Friends”. After that, this story came up. However, Hobbes will live forever!!!