In New York, I bought a little thing.
The kind of thing that has Joe fighting to keep his face in place as he looks at the purchase and says, 'That's nice.'
It's just a little bit of pretty.
And I really like it.
Right now it is sitting on my desk just being mine.
And it makes me happy.
I bought a pretty little thing and I like to hold it up to the light.
I remember hearing that as a baby I liked things that shone.
I bought a pretty little thing and I like to see how it dangles when held just right.
I remember hearing that as a child I was attracted to odd little things.
I bought a pretty little thing and I like how it seems to like me back.
I remember as a teenager that I sometimes had a better relationship with my car and my typewriter than I did with my peers.
Well bless my soul.
I'm still able to get real pleasure out of just a little thing sitting on my desk.
When the world is hard, as it often is.
When people are mean, as they sometimes are.
When hope seems like the cruelest emotion, as it sometimes is.
It won't matter.
Because I bought a pretty thing.