sad life


Sheldn, always quite the cinephile, and Myrna, were walking along a local side street one cold frosty afternoon, when they espied quite a lovely plant, covered with frost.

“It’s just like Mr. Andrew Crocker-Harris”, he noted.

“What makes you say that, baby?” she wondered.

“In ‘The Browning Version'” Sheldn replied, “Crocker-Harris was all erudition and no simple common decency. The youngsters in his class compared him to Himmler. That’s what happens to a guy who just doesn’t get it.”

She understood his point and doted upon his ability to see it that way.

“I do love my egghead!” she sighed.



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