The Old Backpack

Tracy the Walk Arounder had a backpack full of stuff like snacks like oat bars, and tupperware with macaroni, and a pad of paper to draw very detailed pictures of turtles, which she liked to do, and the pencils to draw them with. But she kept her money in her pocket. The backpack was also nice.

Tracy walked up a hill for fun. It was a big tall hill though. It was made of mush. A great earthy mush. It smelled fresh. There was a guy on it camping, he had an Irish accent. That made the hill seem even more fresh.

"It's ah noice dai, asun't it?" said the Irish guy.
"Yah!" said Tracy.

Tracy kept walking and got tired of carrying her backpack and all the crap in it. She didn't really need it. She also was slugging it along the streets and just wherever she walked. She put it down and left it. Tracy kept walking. She didn't have the backpack anymore. It was a nice backpack. In fact she liked it. But it was a pain to carry. She didn't wanna carry it. So she got rid of it. She didn't really need the stuff in it.

"I can get another backpack at some point." she thought.
"I can also get more crap to put in it at some point." she thought next.
"It sure is nice walking around with my arms swinging." she thought after that.
"I guess I kind of miss the backpack." she then thought.

Then she walked more. She found a basket made of twine. She liked it. She picked it up. She carried it on her back. It was nice looking to her. She wouldn't have been able to carry it on her back if she'd had that backpack. The twine basket wasn't much though. It was really only good for decoration. Maybe someone got rid of it and left it where she found it because it wasn't good for much else besides looking nice. You couldn't really hold stuff in it very well. Maybe someone would find Tracy's old backpack and think the same thing about it and leave it.

Tracy thought about whether she preferred someone to pick up her old backpack and be a good home for it, or if she'd rather they leave it alone and no one use it, because it was her favorite backpack.

Then Tracy thought "Why's that backpack so sentimental? It's just a backpack, who cares?" Then she thought about how she was probably thinking about the backpack a lot because she didn't know what else to think about so she was just sorting everything out in her head.

Then she started thinking all these things in the funny Irish accent that that one guy from before had. "Whoy's thurt backpark so santimant'l!?" She made herself laugh.

She had lots of time to think about stuff while she walked. Then she got rid of the nice twine basket.