There is a place to rest all the lighters in the world? A place of a myriad of colored bic written by unlikely?
Where the hell happened to all those I have missed?
And I can not blame only the addicted kleptomaniac, who "Ah ... it was your" , said the moment when the hand / pocket / purse is eating up your bic. Where to put them stealing lighters and again? Perhaps they have invaded their apartment: they have shelves of lighters, table lighters and eat gas lighter. A warm and welcoming, in other words.
Once I'm also a copriaccendino almost in silver (because it seemed almost in all and for all silver, except for price). Prêt-a-brac doors bought on vacation, the typical object which do not need, at least not for the practical purpose for which it was designed. These things have a value and sensory work better than a photograph below you wear the scent of a place, an echo of a laugh ... However
. One evening, in a room, I asked a guy if I turn and there it was, unmistakably, almost silver, almost shimmering, almost untouched except for that scratch (procured on a granite table in a night too alcoholic to tend to the delicacy of the gestures and proxemics). I conclude that the
copriaccendino not lost. Moving.
If you lose something you do not try, "said the sage, and it will come back to you. If you lose something you get to light, I say, maybe you will not find what you need, but at least we get one lighter.
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