I confess, I accidentally crossed the invisible double yellow lines and bumped into this guy at Target. A bit rough-hewn, he was. Scraggly hair, jaw clenched, shirt sleeves rolled up. One hand clenched a shopping basket and swung furiously as he raced mom-with-stroller to the express check-out lane.
He stops and asks me, “WTF?!” but continues walking before I could work up an adequate response to an inquiry with so many applications.
WTF?!
I can only assume he was referring to The Rhudabega and my intentions behind it. Let me keep this short and sweet:
The Rhudabega is truth with a bit of synthetic fabric woven in.
It’s your entertainment and my outlet. Follow my
imagination, my London experiences, and enjoy.
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