I manufacture dolls from the meltdown of ancestral dentures.
Due to a continuously misplaced belt in childhood, I have two waists. I like this one better than that.
The pharmacy where I draw my medication consists of a square white room with a swing door set in each wall through which the wind continually rages. The pharmacists sit on weathervanes, all their pills and potions are unlabelled. Nothing is counted, nothing is measured. The pharmacists tilt donor bottles over receptor bottles and they fill ad hoc as the wind spins them. They dispense meteorological doses. Forecasts.