In these dark and uncertain times I have taken to a daily pilgrimage, walking a triangle between the three supermarkets in my area in the search of blessed toilet paper, This morning after having failed in my quest at the first two stops I felt the urge to take a different route in the hope the change of scenery might soothe my troubled mind .

This little change brought profound results.
I passed by a little row of long established shops. One was a traditional Italian barber shop, (straight razor shaves and beef jerky available) which I had never paid much attention to before, but this time I saw something that stunned me right down to my old pagan heart.

In the barber shop window was a display of toy Vespers (step through motor cycles popular in Italy) and surging to the head of the pack, was a vision of Old Man Who Shouts at Clouds! (see photo - it has not been photo-shopped)

I fell to my knees. I heard my voice intoning "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Muppet!".
I could not move nor take my eyes off the ugly little toy in front of me. I don't recall taking the photo, but it is on my mobile.
I could not feel my body and remained there for what seemed an eternity. Then the kindly old Italian barber helped me to my feet. I thanked him.
He said, "Don't mention it. You'd be surprised how often this happens. The local priest was to do an exorcism on it but it attracts likely customers. You wanna haircut?"
Later I found myself stumbling towards the last supermarket with a new neat number one cut (only $10 and a free sample of his excellent jerky) when I felt a great urge to shout at a cloud. It was a pretty non descript cloud. I cant recall exactly what I shouted at it but it felt exhilarating and empowering.
Borne along by my new found energy I sailed confidently into that sad crowded supermarket and took possession of the very last 12 pack of super-soft, hypo-allergenic, jasmine-scented, three-ply toilet paper.
My arse rejoiced, "Hallelujah!".

This was a true story that mostly happened in reality, except for the bits I made up, those parts that are purely allegorical and the left over stuff that is subject to personal interpretation.