the crumbs of life

It's 8:30 in the morning and I'm on the bus to work for a wee change.

So the view I've got is of the crumb on the window sill and the Tarmac of the road. Crumbs of stone and tar pressed together into a smooth surface. Well, reasonably smooth...

Life is made of crumbs of interaction, pressed together and fired with experience. Or something.