My written pieces are necessarily very short because life is very short. This suggests that we should pay attention to the tiniest details.
I saw a man today with extraordinarily precise dimples in his chin. It reminded me of the elevator scene in Charade, which in turn reminded me of Cary Grant’s complexion and of the way people used to dress. I wore a suit today and a pink shirt and I took my tie off in front of a large crowd. It was weird, I felt like Cary Grant. Coincidentally there was a woman in the first row who had Audrey Hepburn’s eyes. When I spoke, she rolled them to the ceiling and back. I felt strongly like interrupting my speech to ask her why she did it.
On my way home, I noticed barb wire on the top of a house: it did not make any sense there. Not that barbed wire makes any sense anywhere. It seemed to have been dropped there by a mad flying policeman.
I think we’re being watched from the air all the time. I don’t mind.
When I took off my tie, my neck yawned with relief. I hung that tie in the window as a message for everyone that freedom is still a possibility.