I'm just back from a bracing walk on the mean streets.
It's 45 degrees out there!
I found two more pennies to add to my coin collection.
They had been so abused that I couldn't find a trace of Abe at first glance.
I had to put a lot of light on these before it became evident that he hadn't been totally obliterated.
It's good to see you, Abe, and I'm glad I could get you off the streets again.
I rescued someone else from the mean streets this morning,too.
At first, I thought I was looking at flowers...
...but after a few more steps, I realized I was finding pieces of someone, not something.
He seemed a pleasant sort, so I did my best to help him pull himself together.
He was fairly pleased when I found his contact and he could actually see again...
...but he became very angry as he remembered how he had come to be on the streets.
When he began to speak of vengeance, he looked downright ugly.
He seemed to forget about the goodness of being rescued and restored and instead began to focus on making someone pay for what had happened to him.
We sometimes do that very thing.
And it makes us ugly, too.