Dregs of a life

I ambled along a row of stalls of a street market in a Siberian town. A glimpse of bric-a-brac caught my eye (clearly worldly possessions of a departed person), and I was struck by the poignant symbolism of it all. I saw empty tumblers into which two figurines peered: Childhood and Wisdom; a little imp walking down a banknote with a bucket of water in his hand, I saw the salt and the pepper.

Suddenly, everything started to make sense…

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