The pontoons are sending out distress signals as they tumult across the foaming crests. I am disobeying their call and not answering their call. They are unmanned pontoons, they are guided by invisible evilbots from above with callous intentions to get me to drown.
Meanwhile, I am building a delightful wood shed in my living room. I have many beautiful planks of lightly stained wood, the grain is mesmerizing, I believe I see little men tumbling along sloping paths. I believe I see one eye after one eye. This shed will be the secret place of trowels, shovels, hoes and the like. It will be the site of various corporeal punishments that I will delight in enacting, alone or with another or two others, depending on how large they are.
I am in like with my shed. One day I hope to be in love.