tobadzistsini
Lazing around Uncle Wilber's Fountain were a trio of borealopeltae making the most of the sun's largesse. If one grazed a shadow, warmth was situational feeling like 21°C when the air was 10°C made all the more bitter by the dry air.
Kids took turns running up to the beasts, #socking them hard with fists, sticks, and rocks but nary eliciting more than a lazy and annoyed grunt.
From a nearby bench, a Buddhist monk waited in quiet contemplation. 1/x
#wss366
Mar 15 at 10:38pmWeb
Show threadtobadzistsiniMar 15
What stirred those beasts was the rank smell emanating from the big black homeless guy wearing a parka who parked next to the monk. Sleepy, slitted eyes turned towards the bench and advancing afternoon shadows.
"Aintcha cole?" His voice was like gravel soaked in Everclear.
Unperturbed, the monk spoke. "No. I am quite comfortable. Are you cold?"
He wiped his nose, "Yea, once da sun's gone errythin' gits nuncomfertible."
Eyes opened and took in every detail of the smelly companion. 2/x
#wss366
Show threadtobadzistsiniMar 15
After rummaging through his robe, a spindly arm held aloft a package of white cotton socks.
Real cotton. Not a blend.
"You need these more than I will" and offered the largesse.
The bum's hand took the package and grazed the monk's hand, "Jeez, yer colt."
Knobby toes slipped into modest sandals. "Warmth is a state of mind." He bowed.
Some kid squealed as the four-legged tanks moseyed into the street. When the bum looked back, the monk was gone.
But not the gift. 3/3
#wss366