Friday, November 19, 2010

70

I was searching for Socrates again.

I was bashing through the bushes off the pavement.

A man stopped to stare at the strange sight of me.


Later on I came face to face with the man.

I was getting out of the lift at the library, he was getting in.

He looked at me, and he recognised me.


He smiled.

I smiled back.


It's the little things, I tell you.

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