The manager smiled, thanking me for my custom. I'll tell you, we are allowing the old ways to slip. No, don't tell me that. I haven't seen a television repair person for years. Light bulbs burn eternally.
Seeds sprout and grow.
Sometimes I'm afraid to face the future with traditional values dying, stuff that won't break down. Folks who actually work better than they talk. Jobs that are done on time. And my bride looks younger each day. Perhaps soon the Federal Government might actually compensate those Hepatitis C folks, victims of the early eighties and nineties.