This is where I’m from.
And this was my favorite place to play in the house.
We had a rotary telephone.
And stuff like this.
For no reason, this happened in every corner.
We made sure to put everything we lost into the same drawer.
And this kind of thing was very important.
Squeezing in, banging our knees, all the time. I miss that.
Are you among us, the unread pompous publishers, substituting self-importance for success? Welcome, dear. Have some tea.