Newest Archives Profile Whispers Rings Host
And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way Weighing my pockets with stones of longing Especially when those days are Saturday and Sunday. |
Today my portable phone was stolen - by a six-year-old. I made the mistake of not bringing a bag when I went out to meet Caro and Jess for an afternoon walk. My phone must have tumbled out of my pocket while we sat on a stone bench in front of les Halles. Only halfway accross the canal I realized that it was missing and ran back for it. Not more than a minute could have passed, and yet the phone was gone. Caro agreed to call it from her phone. Someone answered; she asked them to bring it back to where we were waiting and hung up. When she didn't say anything for a minute, I asked what had happened. She got a confused look on her face and said, "It was either a crazy woman or a really little kid." A couple of perplexing calls and a few minutes later an exasperated mom pulled up in a white boxy car and handed back the phone. The culprit - a girl of six or seven - hid behind her only slightly older brother with a guilty expression. The whole exchange was quite brief, but it was long enough for the little scamp to make five calls. Luckily most numbers like "123456" won't connect - or charge me anything. All in all I learned why I always haul around my bag and never to overestimate the social conscience of children.
Rethinking the innocence of children at 5:27 p.m.
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