Remarkable. A hanged bird. A hanged sparrow. The eccentricity of it clamored with a loud voice and pointed to a human hand that had torn into the thicket—but who? / Who hanged it, why, for what reason?
—Witold Gombrowicz, Cosmos
The other day I poured water into the hopper—instead of the water tank—of my espresso machine.
In some parallel universe, that makes sense. In this one, not so much.