There was a one legged man on a three wheeled motorcycle selling bleach in the neighborhoods back in the soviet times. His leg had been amputated because of an injury he’d received during the world war II.
On a hot but quiet afternoon, suddenly you’d hear his voice, “Bleach, bleach, I am selling bleach.” My mom would tell me that we needed one, so I would take the empty container down, get a full one from him, pay him 2 rubles, and leave him the empty container.
I was but a little boy.
One day I told my mom that I’d become a bleach seller when I grew up to support our family, if the family needed it.
Another day, I randomly asked my mom, well didn’t ask her but just uttered these words while she was putting us to bed, “Ma, I wonder what the whales are doing right now in the ocean.”
What was my poor mom going to say? She is a pretty wise woman (always was) - she said nothing. She let the question dissolve into my consciousness until I became conscious enough to not ask questions like that anymore, and ripened to an age where I am evolved enough to start selling bleach. I think my ambitions have steadily been growing. I have gotten very close to my dream.
Bleach! Bleach! I am selling Bleach!
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