"But I want to represent life in all its mundane, stultifying detail!" you might protest. "And that's how real people speak." True, but those same people will not sit still to read it.
Sally came into the kitchen and stopped, looking at me plaintively. "You know that big doll of mine that Jannie wrote all over with crayon?"
"I didn't, it was Laurie and he wrote my name."
"You did so write on it, I saw you. Because it was the day Mommy said she would take you to get new shoes if you didn't do one single more thing bad all day and you did and she didn't take you."
"She did so take me and I got sneakers."
"Because anyway," Sally went on, addressing me, "you know that big doll? Because I was making a house and playing very nicely for Dikidiki Bear's birthday." She turned to Jannie. "We're going to have a party and no bad girls can come if they write on dolls."
"See if I care."
"What is it?" I turned to Laurie, who was poking me urgently.
"-- goldfish?"
"No."
"So anyway I told him not to and he did anyway. So," Sally went on insistently, "I think you better come and get him out."
"Who?"
"Barry. I been telling you."
"Barry?"
