At this moment I am listening to the dishwasher which might be the first music I’ve heard all day. I am not sure why I turned it on. There were no dishes to wash. In fact, there are no dishes because, one-by-one, I have broken them all in some sort of elongated ritual whose purpose is unknown. Could this be some sort of metaphor for the absence of a wedding in my life? Who knows? The glassware, the ceramic cups and plates. And all of the silverware is gone, too. Someone broke into my apartment to steal 6 spoons, 8 forks, and 5 knives. This may have happened while I was sleeping. Which explains why I find it so difficult to sleep. If you let down your guard for the tiniest moment, you are not just asking for trouble. You are inviting it. Who knows what they’ll take next?

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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