The smaller things
I am easily amused. As sophisticated as I am in thought, I am a strange being that finds her everyday enjoyment, not necessarily in the extraordinary, but the mundane: a handsome K9 on leash walking just as staunchly upright as its police officer, a woman with tired bags under her eyes stared blankly into me while reading a large blank book of Braille, the moldy, stuffy smell of books in a cramped corner of the library, which, to me, smells unusually clean and at home, the crisp, determined crack of the cue ball breaking a rack, the luscious maroon of the bar table, whose lacquer has been marked by scratches of good times .... My world is full of texture, taste, color, smells, and meaning. I repeat everything I encounter in my mind with word to make sure I know ... because the moment, if I don't feel it, it will never return. Tell me, what excuse is there for me not to be amused easily, even amazed?
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