How much? He asked the old man peddling baubles. He was in a hurry. How much for this one? He asked again, pointing to the big red stone. The old man's fingers came alive. They probed the small wooden plank on which the baubles were kept. They hesitated near the red stone and moved on to a green one. He was growing impatient at the old man. The old man picked up the green stone and said One Dollar. That's not the one I want, he muttered. Oh I am sorry, you wanted the big one, said the old man. That will be Two Dollars. What drama, the old fool wanted to push the green stone, he thought. He handed the old man a five dollar bill. The old man caressed the note and then proceeded to sniff it. Damn, why did I even have to buy from this loon, he thought. Could you please spare me the exact change, nowadays it's tough to make out the worth of money, said the blind old man.
Looks like the fog just spared my window to the street. The street lights looked liking smokers in an alley. The cobble stones were wet from the drizzle. The street dogs were busy barking at something. A breeze just unsettled the garbage can's lid. My world hasn't changed much. Everyday I look for some sign of change. Nothing seems to change. I have grown bald. My eyesight has dimmed. My kids have grown. The window pane has gathered dust and dirt. The spiders have evolved. Some old buildings have given way to new ones. The neon signs have gone. Still nothing seem to have changed. Change they say has to come from within. But then, what can come out of an empty narrow dead end?
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