Opening night at the art exhibition…which one will speak to me?
They have their own personalities. That one over there is forever busy, doesn’t have a resting place anywhere, makes me giddy. The one next to it sits glib. Has nothing to say at all. The one opposite, dark, severe, annoyed at the noise of feet on polished floor, the clinking of wineglasses and the hum of opinions.
This little one is trembling, frightened of its own shadow or more likely of the shadow cast across it by this garish over achiever.
Ah, this one sits comfortably on its own, grand but not ostentatious. It has quality it has soul. It speaks without yelling. It tells a good story. This is the one for me.
Which one is right for you?