Every day, I stare blankly into the abyss, biding my time, marking knife in hand. My little hands are too small for the tools. This makes me angry. The fleshy folk adorn me with moss. Someone drops a chisel... I laugh. No one hears... I laugh harder. I am the panic when you glue up. I am the hair in your wet finish. I am the four inch tall gremlin scratching the legs of your table when you're not looking. XOXO. Remember me.