the crumbs of life
It's 8:30 in the morning and I'm on the bus to work for a wee change.
So the view I've got is of the crumb on the window sill and the Tarmac of the road. Crumbs of stone and tar pressed together into a smooth surface. Well, reasonably smooth...
Life is made of crumbs of interaction, pressed together and fired with experience. Or something.
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