When I was little I collected all sorts of things - stickers, marbles, stamps, pins, cute pieces of soap. My grandmother even convinced me that I was keen on embroidered handkerchiefs and little perfume bottles and made sure that I was never suffering privation...Well, in the meantime I've got rid of all those collections - just to start a new one over here: umbrellas! And I don't mean those fine 6 Euro umbrellas from Penneys. Nooo, I mean those poor miserable things sticking in the hedges and lying in the gutter after a day like today. Torn, tormented, tortured, left behind - DUMPED. Too lowly even to be put into a rubbish bin. I picked up that black one in front of the Hunt Museum; it lay there like a beaten up metal spider. And I realised: you can in fact feel sorry for an umbrella, you really can! I mean, for an Irish umbrella.
1 Kommentar:
I was wondering, although, I hardly dare to ask:
Have you kept that pitiful umbrella? Maybe even opening up an asylum for neglected umbrellas? Or have you thrown it away, in a proper bin, not a hedge? Just wondering (and checking).
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