Have you ever wondered, while wandering around in Here, why there are hardly any leaves on the ground? Plenty fall, all throughout the year, but before too long, they disappear.
Why is that?
I can tell you with absolute certainty that it’s the Splots who’re to blame for the cleanliness of the ground. Their little bodies are composed entirely of the spare ink from never-written-novels-that-are-still-only-ideas. Once born, they’re Here for good.
No, they don’t pick up the leaves out of kindness or because they too can’t stand that sudden “crunch” when their soles meet earth.
A few years back, the Splots were preparing a garden salad for a wedding and somehow ran completely out of spinach, mixed greens, and iceberg lettuce. It was a worst-case-scenario.
In desperation, one of them plopped in a bushel of fresh-fallen leaves as a substitute, and just like that, an insatiable craving was born.
So if you’re at all worried about a universal shortage of leaves while you’re visiting Here, you’re not the only one. We’re all worried about it.
Some of us have tried talking to the Splots, we even tried offering them a sample of arugula, nothing works.
They want leaves and leaves alone.