The title of this post No Room, thanks amuses me since it could refer to a traveller looking for a room.
Or in this case it could be someone advising the counter person that they need No Room for cream or milk.
It was just a snippet of conversation I overheard. I was banging away on my keyboard at T.A.N, a coffee roaster in Ottawa in Sandy Hill.
At least I think it is Sandy Hill. That sounds odd I know but doesn't it ever happen to you? You are somewhere you really enjoy being but you really don't know where you are. So if I were to tell you where I was I would tell you the landmarks around me - it might be the red building two doors in from the corner or the stone church on the corner or a painted piece of graffiti on the wall.
The other day I stopped at a food market, at a quick glance it looked like Bosley's Fruit shop - my mind was making mind connections to Charlie's Angels I suppose - in reality it was Bousleys Fruit Shop.
At least I know that I can mess up words and letters and that I often have to make other types of connections.
It takes longer for me to write as I need to go back and check if my facts are straight. Or I just write what I remember.
After all isn't life about what we remember versus what is true?