Snoopy has a long list of things to do, but after doing some of them, he has climbed up on the roof of his doghouse to do nothing. Across the river, the hills rise in the distance to become the low mountains to the north. After the rain earlier this afternoon, a light breeze is pushing grey clouds across the half-clear sky. Snoopy sits there quietly, without his typewriter, and slowly clears his head. Later, perhaps he will do something: go to hear some jazz; do some cleaning in his doghouse; watch a football match on TV; read a book; even get out his typewriter after all. But for now, nothing. (Andrew Shields, #111Words, 19 July 2025)