THE CONFESSIONS OF RALPH
As I grow older, or let’s say as Ralph grows older, he cares more and more about two things: clouds and water.
He talks about clouds all the time.
Just yesterday he said, “Is that a battalion of alien space ships?”
And a glass of refreshing, ice cold water is like nothing else on earth.
“Mmm, delicious,” said Ralph. “Perhaps I will have one more glass.”
Funny, though, Ralph, or let’s say I - I don’t about the water that clouds hold.
And I don’t care about the clouds in my glasses.
Just the clouds in the sky; just the water in my glass.
Realizing at a certain age that you must buy a new brand of detergent is something I accept, but it is not really something. Realizing that it will probably rain is OK, too, and I have forgotten it already, and that is just fine with me. Does it matter?
But ice cold water, Ralph, and beautiful white clouds ...oh Ralph ...
He talks about clouds all the time.
Just yesterday he said, “Is that a battalion of alien space ships?”
And a glass of refreshing, ice cold water is like nothing else on earth.
“Mmm, delicious,” said Ralph. “Perhaps I will have one more glass.”
Funny, though, Ralph, or let’s say I - I don’t about the water that clouds hold.
And I don’t care about the clouds in my glasses.
Just the clouds in the sky; just the water in my glass.
Realizing at a certain age that you must buy a new brand of detergent is something I accept, but it is not really something. Realizing that it will probably rain is OK, too, and I have forgotten it already, and that is just fine with me. Does it matter?
But ice cold water, Ralph, and beautiful white clouds ...oh Ralph ...
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