There was something very pleasing about the back of the truck in front of me on my way home up S. Hoover Street this evening (or else I'd just reached that stage of the day when almost anything was more fun to look at than a room full of students, much though I love them ...). I think it was the torn paper on the left hand side, the remnants of goodness knows what advertisement or notification, but now, with rust breaking through, like people's limbs sprawling across a landscape. Or not - maybe that's just my mind Rorschach-testing away when faced with a visual challenge.
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