The Lonely Metaphor
At the cafe while ripping the last bits of ribeye meat free from a juicy wad of fat I overheard from another table the supposition that the reason a woman I don't know was so crotchety was because, according to her doctor, her heart was like an old hose left outside in the rain and sun, and was all dry rotted.
And as much as I try to make something of this metaphor, I can't really seem to get anywhere with it. So for now it will just stand alone, as is.
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