I am Jane Goodall's Tanzanian monkeys typing about bananas. My fingers are Santa's little helpers. My hope is a sporadic rainfall - yet a torrential downpour in all creative environments. I am Theseus, unspooling golden yarn. Sisyphus, sweating uphill. Bukowski, scribbling away in rooming houses. A river always flowing. I am the nightmare of stagnancy and a God of Imagination.
Monday, October 14, 2002
Is it possible for a young woman to be so beautiful that she ties up traffic?
Evidently.
A 19th-century London confectioner known as Mr. Very put his daughter to work in his shop.
So stunning was she that people stood around outside the shops windows to watch her.
Not just a few people.
Crowds.
Historical footnotes say the police eventually got Mr. Very to send the young lady out of the city.
She was stalling both horse and foot traffic, they said, just because she was so strikingly beautiful.
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