December 12 2011
Now, let's continue the story. Unspectacular but the crowning glory of the day was then, when Daddy went into the tobacconist's and bought stamps. It may have been due to previous events or to the dizzy light, he must have had more of an attention span of a fly to be equaled. When he asked in his best French for 20 stamps, the old selling witch nodded and quickly whirled around with a handful of smaller envelopes reckon quickly and said, 20 times 10 would be 200 stams or 120 €. Daddy said no. He wanted only 20 stamps. 20 pieces. The face of the woman frowned and she opened a book from which she took out 20 pieces and then counted them loudly. Daddy paid the € 12 and disappeared. So far so good. Only then, when he was at home and mom wanted to paste them on her Christmas post there were only 18 pieces. And I swear it smelled slightly of sulfur.
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