Occasionally, I will catch myself staring at the wall and then the ceiling. And wondering when was it the first caveman or cavelady complained out loud, "Enough with the caves! I've had it. The air bad and batty. It's too expensive to heat. Enough! Let's build a ranch-style three-bedroom, with indoor plumbing. And a little fenced backyard for the poodle."
And other times, I catch myself thinking about Franz Schubert's Piano Trios. At such times, I simply don't know what to do. I just stand there, with my mind turning to fog and mist, and not believing those trios actually happened.
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