On Monday I walked past the King's Domain gardens woolgathering. There was something odd about a man ahead of me, but I couldn't think why. He was medium-tallish, wearing a red-and-black rainjacket, monk's-tonsure bald, unremarkable.
Something small and white in the middle of his head bobbed gently up and down in time with his walk. It wasn't so small as to be hard to see. Once you saw it, it was impossible not to keep on seeing it.
Should I have run up to tell him he had a fluffy white feather stuck to his scalp?
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