Kickass, the doorstop dog, reports on the keeper and Phyllis including in their central sand lake, week-long runaway, a sitting-around-the-campfire session with Phyllis’s son Kevin, Colleen, Geordan and Luka, during which the keeper was prompted to conclude that staring into campfire flames is one thing that has not basically changed since caveman days.
With that in mind, the keeper does a construct of what might have been some caveman staring-into-the-campfire thoughts:
*I ate too much of that mastodon, but it was so good. Thelga is a good cook.
*They may scoff at my round-rock chipping project, but if I get it to roll down-hill I just know it will be useful, maybe for riding it to the cavemart.
*I wonder what keeps the stars up there and us down here.
*The wolf hanging around the edges does not need to think it can move into the cave with us and be pampered as if it were a family member.
*Too much staring at the rock art on the ceiling gives me a headache and bores me with its sameness. The stickman is never going to catch the buffalo!
* So that’s why my head aches? Maybe I need more grog?
*What will tomorrow bring?
*Somebody put another log on the fire!