Today, a smiling stranger helped me find a car park. It was all narrow alleys and bright trees. I ate long noodles and watched the sun, reminisced about people who hung out of windows muttering to themselves, watched sportsmen declare love for orange peanuts and wished I had hair long enough to swing from.
~What colour eyes are the most hypnotic?
Apart from crazy eyeballs and the odd burst of Disney song that gets stuck in my head, I have a habit of stepping on pink starfish sponges and falling into cake.
"Cake? Really?" they all say, rather surprised.
"Of course," I reply, in a grand gesture of reassurance, "What else is there?"
They all nod, of course, for it makes perfect sense.
"She really is onto something," one would say to the other, "Is cake not the softest?"
"Totally right, she is," the other would say to one, "if it's not the softest, I shall eat my right boot!"
"Not your left?" one would enquire, intrigued and slightly suspicious.
The other would laugh, "Oh, no, you see! I was wrong once before!"
And sure enough, they'll all look down and see first-hand just how hazardous a wrong proclamation can be.
~for the first time in forever...
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