Originally Posted by
Dennis
About eight years ago I posted this here. perhaps it is relevant now:
The Market Trader.
One day while walking through our local market I heard a voice: ‘Excuse me!’ It was a lady with a little stall, well just a trestle table, behind which she sat. On it were a few items of second hand jewellery. I hate these, because I immediately think of the people who once owned them, maybe now long dead.
‘Excuse me,’ she said, ‘but I’m dying to go to the loo, would you look after my stall for ten minutes?’ Well what could I say? I was not in a hurry so I agreed and sat on the little stool.
People passed by with never a glance and after a while the lady returned with a contented smile. I had not been arrested for illegal trading.
She is still there sometimes, but she does not recognise me now. Dennis.
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