This is another of my non-children’s stories, number two under the umbrella of The Bad Fortune Teller. Madam Nuage is becoming quite the seer, and one can only wonder who is going to come visit next.
The idea for this story came about when a man named Bill, who was doing some concrete work, told me about a stack of bricks that he once owned, and how he hauled them from one house to another over the years, always thinking they’d come in handy one day, and that he never did find a use for them.
I love Bill’s great optimism, good intentions, and unending devotion to his project. With a little luck, he might even have realized his dreams. But, alas, Heather has her own. Ahh, marriage.
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