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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