Tattoos

[koganbot]

"The old man grunted," he said to himself. He was an old man, and he'd just grunted, and it struck him that that was what old men in stories did, they grunted, or wheezed, or cackled, and looked askance. "The old man grunted." This time he said it aloud. A girl in her mid twenties laughed gaily. He hadn't seen that anyone was near him. "And what was the man grunting about?" she asked him. He noticed she'd omitted the word "old." Kind of her, he thought. "The tattoo shop," he said. "Nothing against tattoos. I almost got a tattoo when I was in the Navy. But this used to be a record store." He pointed. "Now it's for tattoos. Used to be that people went out and got music. Elvis, Carl Perkins, Dinah Washington. There'd be loudspeakers, the melody pouring into the street. Now music is hidden on hard drives. People wear tattoos, music for the eyes, I suppose, but the rhythm is gone from their walk." He stopped. "You don't have tattoos, do you?" The girl laughed. "Several, on my shoulder." She rolled up her sleeve.

Comments

answering the kind query of an un-old man -

[(Anonymous)]

Thanx for asking, Frank. I'm fine, basically. And tattooless. And at the moment, nearly gormlessly garmentless. For 'tis goddammerungly hot in herre, and out therre, too.
+ 33 C, bloody hell. (Outside).

t**t

Re: answering the kind query of an un-old man -

[koganbot]

We were up to 25.5 C today. A week ago it snowed!