Sir_Nigel 10 #1 Posted July 17, 2017 (edited) attracted by books and convivial looks I cheerfully stop at a trendy new shop where pricey books lay on arty display the shelves, almost bare uncluttered and spare have a notice which states they’re reclaimed from old crates though miniature cacti mystify lined up like ducks between the sparse books business is thin there’s no-one else in I very soon see this isn’t for me nothing to read nothing you’d need just puzzling selections of photo collections niche little volumes of not very much black and white pictures of nothing as such no landscapes, no faces no people, no places nebulous titles give nothing away nothing to hint what they’re trying to say whose ideal gift would be photos of driftwood? a hipster, role unknown lounges with his phone idly typing jadedly swiping straight outta Hoxton no effing socks on not there to assist he pretends I don’t exist what is this place? this vast waste of space who even looks at these fathomless books? what do they do when they’re done leafing through? the hipster no doubt knows what it’s about one glance can tell if I’m hip clientele but his face says forget it he knows I don’t get it but I still make a show of pretending I know making quite plain my lofty disdain sorry my friend this is way behind trend too hackneyed and worn I am stifling a yawn I came to be thrilled and I leave unfulfilled but I haven’t a clue just who’s fooling who Edited October 13, 2017 by Sir_Nigel Share this post Link to post Share on other sites Share this content via...
maidinsheff 10 #2 Posted August 17, 2017 Excellent. Made my day. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites Share this content via...
