These days, I have a view of an ice-cream shop. My children watch it like sportscasters: who's there, what flavor, chocolate or rainbow sprinkles, when do they get to go? It's softserve, not high quality per se, but there's a lot of joy to be found in soggy cones and a chocolate shell.
I've had other views: an OTB, a funeral parlour. Both involved clumps of people, cigarettes, and grief. It was another lifetime, but this is what I've learned. I need to have something to look at. Something of interest. It's all that really matters.
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