The changing of the guard

You meet the best people in this line of endeavor. Case in point, this fine gent who for many years in the 70’s through the early 90’s operated a curiosity and antique shop on Pine St in one of the now demolished husks of a building making way for shiny new crackerboxes. He walked in with his caretaker and his cataract and nearly blind eyes immediately fell on what must’ve been to him a blurred vision of a beautiful woman. He walked over to her, more swiftly than I would have thought his aged frame could muster, and using his fingers, painted a mental picture of her. He felt over each aged crack and blister of lead paint, making up with his hands where his eyes had failed him and issued the edict that she would be going home with him. His caretaker sighed as I took her down from her perch and allowed him a closer inspection. Her white, blind eyes locking with his, I knew that she was gone from my life and would improve his tremendously. To paraphrase, in the land of the blind, the cataract man is king… Today he has found his queen at Nevertold.

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