I arrive at a crowded meeting in a small room. My friend has been leading the group. I suggest we all play charades and describe the rules of the game. Each person in the room passes a strand of colorful, mostly blue yarn up to me in apparent acquiescence. My friend, however, responds to my suggestion with, "Tell me where you got your haircut and I’ll tell you what I’m working on." Everyone laughs. He turns around, adjusts his back and then leaves abruptly, apparently ill.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #66
A Game Of Charades
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