The itsy bitsy spider

i was riding an elevator tonight up to my apartment, accompanied by a somewhat elderly man, a 30’ish woman, and her 2 youngish children.

as the elevator ascended, the man began speaking/singing:

The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout.
Down came the rain
and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun
and dried up all the rain
and the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.

I had the sense that he was directing this towards the children, but they looked as uncertain as I. The woman and children exited on the 11th floor.

At the 15th floor, he turned to me and said, “you know, I’m always the smallest guy in the room. And you know what they say about being small? You’re always the last to notice when it starts raining.”

i wish i had thought of  asking him if this was a good thing or a bad thing because i honestly have no clue. maybe tomorrow i will try to act small, just to see if i can make any sense of this. i hear they are expecting rain.

 

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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