Spots
Faulty world As I was walking hurriedly through the milling crowd I collided with a glowing cigarette held by a casual hand. The burning tip of the cigarette broke off against my beautiful brand new black striped trousers and with a mild sadness I slowed my pace—oh my specially tailored favorite one day old trousers! Still walking I inspected the white spot on the fabric and tried to rub it off. No big success. I could see clearly the whiteness of the spot. The fabric must have been irreversibly burnt—I thought. My sadness deepened. In the midst of the jostling crowd I felt lonely—what a bad luck. My mind drooped. The bright sunshine dimmed. But I had to walk on as everybody has to. With every step now I slowly widened the focus of my mind from the single white spot on my trousers. I felt the spreading. It spread slowly all over the full length and breadth of the trousers. I thought, yes, the total area of the fabric is much larger than the spot. The size of the spot reduced. ...