Walking along any street at any hour before midnight in a tourist town, is to walk through a miasma of human intimacy. Hundreds if not thousand of people, each in their own little group talking.
“… and I said, “Listen I’m not ready …”
Ready for what I wondered.
“… then she let out this horrible shriek …”
Did she see a mouse or was this something more sinister.
“… the Americans have done it again!”
Oh my, now what are they up to?
Bits of life, bits of personal experience jumbled stories.
oceans of experience
in tiny puddles
(c) G.s.k. ’14
This haibun is linked to Friday Fictioneers