The first drops

I admit I could have started the new year with something funny or nice, but nah … So here comes instead a little disturbing dialogue, maybe between friends or strangers or maybe in one person’s head.

He always said: they who think you can destroy a man by taking away all of his belongings have never really enjoyed life.

He’s been living on his thoughts.

He still lives on his thoughts.

Looks like it’s going to rain.

Yes, he’ll need an umbrella.

Some fireman came down the street. One, no, two hours ago.

Came to take him down that tree, I suppose.

Or they’ve gone to Lionstreet – it was yesterday evening when someone burnt down the old tin factory.

Old Mr Peebles won’t be happy when they tell him.

He probably wouldn’t, but he died last Sunday.

He was ill.

He had bad pneumonia. But I think he finally bought it for other reasons.

Was bankrupt. Lost all his properties.

Yes, that was too much.

It’s strangely warm.

I’m already feeling the first drops.

He has opened the umbrella now.


C. C. Holister (c) 2018



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