A blank white sheet of paper blowing away in the wind. What does that remind you of ?

Today morning I again looked at the jhaadoo that is stuck at the top of our lift. Living on the topmost floor of my building has its advantages too…you see. The broom reminded me of the way I would write autobiographies as a child. Autobiography of a watch, which would travel from a showroom to a wrist and then trampled upon and then finally back to its owner resplendent with shining glass and a twinkling strap. Hold on , does it sound like a formula movie ? was I too obsessed as a child with happy endings...maybe or maybe not …but yea I liked to shut myself in closets and sit for hours..it was fun, the darkness like a secret room inside. Maybe am still in a closet…who knows