On the day my drawings came to life, I ran through the hallway with a paintbrush in each hand, dragging it along the walls, making as many friends as I could.
They peeled off the walls and smiled, asking me about my day and offering to clean around the house a bit.
They shook out the rugs and washed the dishes. They set out a nice lunch and sorted through the mail.
They found the mop and the broom, but by the time they started, I had turned the whole house into friends, and there was nothing left but the dirt beneath our feet.
So I handed each of them a brush, and we drew on the ground until there were friends as far as the eye could see, and no one ever had to be alone again.
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