“SOME OTHER TIME”
I was walking on Yonge Street towards Finch Avenue when a building said, “What? You think we buildings can’t talk?”
“How did you know what I was thinking?” I said.
“Your mind isn’t hard to read. We buildings know many things. We can teach people a lot, but they’re always in a hurry and too busy to listen.”
“I would love to hear what you have to say—”
“Wonderful!” said the building.
“But I am already late for an appointment. Perhaps some other time?”
“Some other time,” sighed the building.