Monday, July 31, 2017

1125. Quantum mechanics

The old man smoked a dirty cigarette, or maybe a small cigar.
I paid so little attention to him as he gathered sticks in the park that his movements appeared conspicuously random, an electron jumping its orbitals.
His appearance at our table, asking for a couple of bucks, surprised me; no change on me, pal.
I thought about him all the way home from the restaurant then never again.