Crinkled (July26)

 

Crinkled large shoulder bag carted by an older Malay, a maid possibly.

        BLAND

          LIFE

         Huh!?…

         The initial reading raised a twitch.

         Turned out with some pivoting… & swivelling… the I… had been hidden in the folds… And the B revealed to be a S.

         Groan. 

         The other kind of minor wit was uncommon here; nonexistent in the manufactures. (Or almost non-existent: few weeks back another tee, JUST CAN’T DO IT.)

         Here in the present case it reminded of a Brit lager lad type’s tee down on the Montenegrin coast earlier in the year. Carried on the rear in that case. A cartoon dunderhead like the Duck in more youthful years... Stranded… on a desert-like landscape… yet one that in fact included waterfront of some ill-defined, unappealing kind. 

         Unfortunately, rather apt for what the ancestral strip had become over these last decades of cruise ships, YouT & Insta features, paddle boards, ice-cream & pizza. 

         NOTHING the simple tag carried in caps.  

         The guy, the Duck, had done his best. Gadded about, took in the sights, tried his darndest. Left wondering.

         The water, sun, sand, games, umbrellas had blotted out the dark, looming hills ringing all round. Blotted out all their meaning.