Wednesday, May 7, 2014

BENOWHERE

The doorbell rang this morning. I was not expecting a delivery.

An elderly woman with a slight stoop and sparkling eyes thrust a family size box of Weetabix into my hands. Uncomprehending, I blathered. She caught my glance and smiled, nodding, before scuttling, with startling suddenness, back into the out-of-the-blue.

J.
X

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