Boutique Aficionado

She’s staring intently, as if towards a specific point on a silver river at dawn. She’s staring at furniture, through the windows of one of these boutique hotel things. And to me, it all looks like another piece of fluff. So I say to her:

‘I was thinking about becoming impotent, and then insolvent.’

For a moment she continues mathematically judging the practicality of  another wooden chair at this stage in life. Quickly thereafter she says with that smile:

‘But time’s already passed you by sweetheart.’


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