It was Friday which meant that it was trash

It was Friday which meant that it was trash day. When I went out to my dumpster I heard a noise that sounded like a baby crying. I peeped into the nasty rubbish and found

a baby crying. Weird, I'm almost never right, except for that time i thought there was a baby crying in the dumpster and... whoa, deja vu. I've got to start sleeping at night, but

something glaring at me from the crack in my wall keeps me awake when I think that someone is screaming in my left ear. It's never just

in English, either. What's up with that? I'm being terrorized by a bilingual psychopath.

The worst part is that I really can't understand anything he's saying as I only speak Esperanto. In fact, this entire story has been translated for your benefit.

Scholars from seventeen countries donated their time, for the nuanced inflections of an Esperanto love sonnet require a disciplined eye and the resolve of a mother searching for

diaper coupons. "Could Nostras Domus be this worthwhile?" the banker thought. As she counted up twenties she imagined what would happen if the world ended, that would be

epic or epoch. Talia really could not keep those terms straight ever since earth space science class, when Mrs. Yeti spoke about the dinosaurs. Mrs. Yeti was from Tibet

and from the looks of her, you'd have thought she knew about dinosaurs from first-hand experience. Mrs. Yeti's antiquity spooked Talia even more that her Tibetan habit of chewing

tanned yak. "The last of my blood." she managed to spurt out. Talia reached out her hand and quickly drew it back again. Whatever Mrs Yeti had done in the past would die with her.