Play is the work of the child

[nottheredsea]

The really great thing about crawling across the ceiling was that people were less likely to notice him up there.  That meant easier eavesdropping and a greatly lowered occurance of screaming episodes.  On the ceiling, he could be quiet, secret and stealthy.  Like a ninja.  A ninja made out of blood.

It got boring up there after a while.  His mind, such as it was, wandered, and soon he had stretched into a long, thin river that chased itself  around and around on the ceiling, coiling in spirals and arching under himself in giggling fits of glee.