Now I see a glass bottle at the top of the full trash. Now I see a hook at the top of the mop bucket where I suppose the mop handle may be inserted (interesting, I’ve never tried that). Now I’m looking at a scattering of seeds and crumbs — of white seeds with brown crumbs, of round seeds with white crumbs, of pine nuts with black crusts,– and in a place where I thought I’d just cleaned.

Now I pace about, looking for something to do. Now I wait for an occasion to act — wipe what is already wiped, sweep what is already swept, straighten what needs no straightening or turning, or only extremely minutely. Now I see soggy goo in a corner of the sink and leave it. Now I reflect on things of various kinds, then reflect on things still more various in their kinds, and now suddenly I decide, well, I’ll clean the goo, which I do, — whereupon a customer comes in.

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