STREET ART EXMOUTH STYLE (Part 15)
His name is Mr Trotter and for six days a week, year in year out,
come rain or shine he stands there like a Colossus of Rhodes in
miniature, surveying the surging masses as they sweep through the
town in their shopping frenzy. There he stands outside of Porky Down
in the Magnolia Centre, smiling his smile, as proud as Punch to be
Exmouth's most famous resident.
I sometimes, however, get to wonder and I sometimes get to suspect
that not everything is how it at first seems and not everyone is how
they at first appear. Take for example Mr Trotter and others much
like him. Those who would appear to be always merry and bright,
always happy and smiling, always with a song in their heart and a
skip in their step. Never down in the dumps, never depressed, never
red of eye having spent all night crying into their pillow. How can
this be so, I ask? In this town? In this country? In this world?
What's their secret? What do they know that others don't? Or what
don't they know?
Are they not paying attention?
I sometimes get to wonder if Mr Trotter and others like him are for
real?
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