as I sprawled on the stucco pavement where I'd tripped.
"Obrigado" I replied once standing.
Then "Shit, I've broken my sandal. Bugger" "Que?"
I limped back to the dorm with the broken flip-flop
and threw them both in the bin. "What use is one?"
I couldn't bear to buy another pair
and managed the rest of the trip with plimsolls.
"What on earth do you want that for?" she'd said.
"Well, it might have a use. You never know"
"Oh, leave it be! You're such a miserly hoarder"
(She didn't mince her words, my long dead wife.)
Back in UK while looking in my shoe drawer
I noticed the single fllip-flop that she'd seen me
pick up from the pavement years before.
And it would have been the right replacement.
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