A doddering kind soul
wanted to show me something.
It was a show and tell actually and I was in no hurry . . .
So, whether I was to be taken straight to the point or driven multiple times around the block,
I was the listener and not the teller.
Turns out, it was the story of the brick that they had made . . .
. . . from mud off the family farm . . .
. . . all the way to the community kiln . . .
. . . and then to its journey to . . . and its placement in . . .
They were proud of their brick.
And rightly so.
It did fit in nicely with the other bricks
that were floating nearby.
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