almost forgot to post
Would have been stupid to just forget two days before the end of the game.
It was raining today. I got stains of dirty water on both my trouser legs, but more on the left one. Do I have an uneven gait? Is my left calf more prominent than the right one? Was there more dirt on the left side of the path to the trolleybus station? It is all a mystery. To think I could have avoided those ugly stains (and laundry later) by not going out. Thirty minutes in it turned out I was in no mood to be hanging out, so I went home, and the same two friends I’d gone out to see came over several hours later to play Alias and drink Cinzano.
See if you can spot several subtle hints in the previous paragraph:
a) I have Alias, come play
b) dear husband, I am drinking away my sorrow, return home quick
c) I hate doing laundry
This is how true prose is composed. Seriously though, a guy I know once sent me some short stories to read, and when I wrote an unconvincing review, he spluttered angrily about me being very poorly trained as a philologist because I was unable to spot his cunning use of the motif of the color yellow. Or was it red? Anyway, now I know that contrived prose is smart prose. No idea what reminded me of that episode now.