I got caught sliding down the hand-rail this morning. It’s no small surprise as I am guaranteed to do so a minimum of five times a day. A kind of plain-looking, slightly-stooped, older man caught me as I slid down to the first landing as he came up from the first floor to the same, hugging the rail and out of sight from above. I let out a little “whoo!” as I slid off the end, having caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye.

For some reason, “whoo!” seemed appropriate.

To my surprise, he didn’t give me a tsk-tsk look, but instead a slightly melancholy smile; as if he wished he’d thought of that… or that he had thought of it, but was now too old or fragile to attempt it. My sheepish grin seemed to be enough to validate what I had been doing, and we both continued on with our respective journeys as if nothing had happened.

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