A trace of a toenail

The church advertises in red letters that today and obviously only today and than no more for the next 200 years the holy sacrament will be shown to the public. The church seems to be not very concrete these days. So I better walk faster through the rain because I am afraid a foot nail might be a holy thing too, under certain circumstances of course but not on an ordinary Thursday, where it rains in a very unholy way. In the café where they play all Céline Dior songs in an infinite loop.( I never knew how many songs Céline Dion tend to sing,but I can assure you, an awful lot are played here ). Here Emily wants to have a hot chocolate and Ethan wants  a coke and the father of the kids wants anything than two arguing kids by his side, but as the church would assure in a very concrete way: it can get only worse, when Emily wants to show her new jacket to everyone in the room and Ethan spills half a cup of hot chocolate on his sisters white jacket, than no one should be afraid of calling the following scenes a holy war. So I better walk faster through the rain on an ordinary Thursday, to buy very ordinary things, trying not to be drowned by the waves an ordinary SUV  driven by the mothers to pick kale and parsnips, raises, only to read in the paper that a man discovered a toe- nail in his food. But the paper like the church tends to be not very concrete in these days and nothing can be said so far concerning the holiness of the discovery.

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