Random thoughts, stolen images, hidden conversations and incoherent babble from beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time.
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
Yesterday morning came with an orangey sunrise.
"For sale, baby shoes, never worn". So goes the famous six word short story by Hemingway, or so I believe. Today's version: "For sale, mobility scooter, your price". Turns out that if you are ever selling a mobility scooter you need to brace yourself for the sad tale that the prospective buyer will bring and then add into the bargaining process like some financial hand grenade. Inevitable really and though I was well prepared the reality of the moment was stronger and more intense than I had expected. You can call me weak or naive, it doesn't really matter, a deal was struck and I was not disappointed. All in all I'm just a sucker for a good twisted sob story, if reasonably delivered. After all, I made this one up and Roman Polanski isn't even interested in filming it.