Zero Sum Luck

The two ladies enter the Sagrada Familia together. 

Ah! says the ladies.

Because it looks very high.

And coloured light in blue tones streams though the stained glass windows.

It's like some sort of stone forest, says the first lady.

So it is, says the second. Shall we wander through it together?

All right, says the first lady. My name is Freda, by the way.

What a coincidence! says the second lady. That's my name as well.

I was just thinking about your lucky hat pin, says Freda.

So was I, says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda.

And the nature of luck, says Freda.

What were your thoughts? asks Lucky-Hatpin-Freda.

Only that luck is sometimes zero-sum, says Freda.

I think I see what you mean, says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda. I lose it, which is bad luck, then someone returns it, which is good, but I'm no better off.

Yes, says Freda. But look on the bright side. You meet some nice people.

Yes, that young man, says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda. He was nice. 

And that dear little boy, says Freda. 

I wonder if the young man is the little boy's father, says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda.

I doubt it, says Freda. The little boy looked like he belonged here.

Now you mention it, so he did, says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda.

Like one of the outside statues come to life, says Freda.

What a thought! says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda.

The two Fredas make their way round the basilica.

The light, and the stone carvings. Divine! 

Well worth the 26 euros. 

Meanwhile, outside, Sartre is watching the clock. 

He has been holding the handbag clasp togther for fifteen minutes. Five minutes to go.

Terence is sitting beside him, still stuck to the hat pin.

Sweezus has gone off to find something to dissolve the glue with. 

This is boring, says Terence.

A intelligent person should never get bored, says Sartre.

Are you bored? asks Terence.

No, says Sartre. I'm thinking.

What about? asks Terence.

What I'll do in five minutes, says Sartre.

What? asks Terence.

Continue my blog, says Sartre. There's a great deal to tell.  

Will you tell how you had to wait twenty minutes for the glue to dry? aks Terence.

That's the sort of thing I'll leave out, says Sartre.

I wouldn't, says Terence.

There's the difference between us, says Sartre.

I'm not a cheater, says Terence.