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  • All of the girls huddled in the corner of my flat and were sharing a small bowl of raspberry ripple ice cream. The other guests sat chit-chatting amongst themselves except for one of my wife’s friends who was eyeing up the paperclips resting on the credenza.

    “Excellent array of paperclips you have here,” he said, turning his head in my direction.

    I raised an eyebrow, “Uh, I haven’t really given it much thought.”

    He made certain that he examined the paper fastening stationary from every conceivable angle. The only slightly interesting thing about them was the fact that came in an assortment of colours.

    “I would like to purchase them from you.”


    “How much? For the paperclips.”

    “You can buy them in most stores. They’re just standard paperclips.”

    My wife’s friend placed his hands upon his slender hips and smiled at me like a crazed fox. I shrugged my shoulders; not really knowing what else to say. He picked up the pot from the credenza and held it up to his triangular face.

    “They are the most beautiful paperclips I’ve ever seen.”

    “Really… they’re just basic, standard, every day, coloured paperclips. You can purchase them anywhere.”

    The man shook his head before carefully placing the pot back down. Reaching into the breast pocket of his brown corduroy jacket, he pulled out a chequebook and a pen.

    “Here,” he muttered as he signed a cheque and handed it to me. “Take this and write whatever amount you would like. It is of no concern to me.”

    I looked at down at the cheque and, as I was about to reassure him that he could purchase the paperclips from stores for only a fistful of change, he had vanished with the pot.
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