There’s a whisper of autumn in the air, which isn’t surprising given it is indeed autumn.
I’m not enjoying it. That isn’t surprising either. I’d need a brain transplant to react differently.
As for speaking in a whisper – that would be downright creepy when I live on my own: me lurking around whispering in case I heard myself say something I didn’t want me to know.
I do speak aloud into the void, though. The odd pat on the back. The odd rebuke. But mostly I speak to the television. No I won’t…buy/love/visit/do whatever it is you’re insisting I will. And most often of all, ‘Do you think I’m stupid?’ aimed at many things, particularly every brand of anti-wrinkle cream.
There is no way in the world that anything short of heavy photo shopping could give that wrinkly face back the dewy bloom of youth. Even drastic surgery wouldn’t work. It might remove the wrinkles, but the dewy bloom of youth, my friends, is age specific. You know? Like…
Cynicism isn’t the most attractive personality trait, but gullibility would be far more expensive.