LIFE, QUALMS, AND THE WRONG WORD
Do you ever have the feeling, just as your coach is crossing the Forth Road Bridge, that you have left the cat at home shut in a room with an open box full of undelivered Spurtles?
Or perhaps your qualms comprise ovens left switched on, or windows open, or bath taps gurgling in the dark?
Such unsettling doubts come unbidden, and their origin is stress, disquiet at shifting contexts, the pang of leaving one space or way of being for another.
Mostly, these ghosts and their rattling chains will pass. There’s nothing amiss. All will be well.
Occasionally, they don’t, and even though you cannot put your finger on it, you know for a certainty that something has been compromised, gone horribly wrong.
As in life, so in marketing prose.
Pedants, take a wander along George Street and stop at Kiehl’s Since 1851. Revel in all the ersatz detail. Spare a thought for the poor haunted copywriter. Imagine the sudden cold realisation, the actual, bone-chilling chagrin.
