Outside the library stood a serious-looking man, saying into his phone: "Paragorames, paragoremas. Paragorames, paragoremas. Paragorames, paragoremas."
Outside the shop stood white-bearded old Jarkko, smoking a strange cigarette. His face lit up when he saw me: "I just read a fascinating book. Did you know there's an animal that makes perfectly round pieces of excrement? And the elephant, let me tell you what he does when he goes to take a dump..."
I borrow a book by David Nicholls, buy honey and frozen bilberries, and go home to write a bizarre blog entry. Can you blame me?
No comments:
Post a Comment