Oh Them Heavy People . . .

Stopping for a coffee in a familiar haunt where I read the morning newspaper and do the crossword to the strains of geriatric buzzing gossip, I looked up as someone touched my shoulder. The gentleman there enquired about my father and then volunteered that he was concerned about some troubling behaviour that he really did not want to discuss with a daughter. Oh dear.

Next day same place another old salt came by my table and asked if he could sit down. He then very delicately chronicled a few reasons why he no longer enjoys chatting with my father. Oh dearie dear.


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If we are bold, love strikes away the chains of fear from our souls.
= = Maya Angelou