See me.
See me think.
Think, me, think.
See me write.
Write, me, write.
See me think and write.
See me stop.
Stop, me, stop.
See my ears.
See the smoke.
See the smoke come out my ears.
That is the answer.
I’ve been without a scanner for a while now, and can post no images. (Unless of course, I rip one off from someone else, a common practice.) So, words it is. Hmm, what to say, what to say …
Guess I’ll have to pull something out of a hat, the one on my head, my writer’s hat, which is tall and dark and covered with golden punctuation symbols.
I reach in …
What’s this? A slip of paper that says, 7¾. Ah! Must be cryptic. A clue to solving a mystery. I’ve never solved a mystery, much less written one. Seven … seven … what is known for its number seven? Wait! It was an eight! Had to have been. Because seven and three quarters indicates it once was a whole number, which would have been eight. So the problem actually is, where’s the missing quarter?
I reach into the hat again … run my finger inside the band and, bash my brim! Here is the missing quarter!
The one that will complete my coin collection of all fifty states.
Now, what was the question?
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How many dyslexics does it change to take a light bulb?