The Old Mansion on My Street

I consider taking a walk, but then I remember I need my crutches.

Not that I need the crutches. My leg is fine now. The break was clean; the cast inconvenient but a nice attention getter; the crutches cumbersome and ugly.

I would have liked to have thrown the tall rigid walking implements into the trash. Or at least recycled them for some other poor soul to use.

But, sagely, I left my un-needed crutches standing in the foyer, by the front door.

For just this kind of day. . .