Beautiful things
The guy at the handicraft shop was obviously tired after a long day. His glasses were smudged with dust and fingerprints that I wondered how well he could actually see through them. Still, he smiled at me as if he could see me just fine when I walked up to the counter.
"You like beautiful things, don't you," he said, ringing my purchases through on a green iMac.
I struggled for a moment. I didn't think I was buying anything special ... a collage kit, some paper and a couple of shells. Don't all people who come to a shop like this like beautiful things? Why was he saying that to me?
"Unfortunately, yes ..." said I.
Words hung at the edge of my tongue. That all this raw material is but a kind of potential beauty - from which beauty of another kind can be created.
Posted by sniffles at February 26, 2002 10:38 PM