Palindrome

(Written from the perspective of a 10-year-old boy.)

Amanda Jensen

I love words.

I’ve always loved words.

They can make sense in a million different ways. You can take time with them. Research them, analyze
them, stare at them. People aren’t like that. People don’t like when you stare at them.

That’s why words are easier than people.

Palindromes are always interesting to come across. Kind of sideways backwards like when I was younger
and my little brother and I used to hang upside down on the back of the couch and frown so that it was
a right side up smile.

I like that word: paaaaalindrome. The whole word wants to be your pal!

Race car

Madam

Ogopogo

Civic

Level

Kayak

Mom

Technically I suppose this is a sequence of numbers, not a word, but its Sunday so I’ll let that slide.

If found please return to 123 321 Smith Drive.

I like the way that rings in my ear, different from the ringing I hear when I try to sleep on the wrong side
at night in case my head gets dented in all flat one way and then no one ever wants to kiss me.

Being lost is kind of like a palindrome. Cause to be lost you have to be found and to be found you have
to be lost. If you have no place to be returned can you ever get lost?

The puddles stretch across the tunnel, into the dark and back out to the light. Backwards forwards up
down. I drop my treasure to the very tippy bottom of the puddle and it suddenly becomes an ocean. I
have no boat and I cannot swim so I have to walk on.

I wonder what’s for lunch?