It is with a lack of surprise entirely that I recognize myself as being an avuncular pervert. The highlight of my day yesterday was seeing the chubby teenage girl running energetically uphill to catch the bus. Like a cheetah overtaking an antelope. The odds were very much against the vehicle.
The girl caught it. Eyes on fire, hair ablaze, and energy to spare.
She wasn't fat-fat. Sleek, not lean at all, but obviously in fine fettle.
The young of the species is full of piss and vinegar. And cute as blazes when pursuing prey. I stepped aside so as to give her a clear shot.
Yes, I am still astounded. Not only did she rocket up the slope at great speed, but she wasn't winded in the slightest. This old man would not be able to do that, and is, consequently, filled with envy.
One of the reasons I would not be able to do that is that I would fear losing the pipe I was smoking at the time. Running with a pipe is probably undignified. Don't know, not going to put it to the test.
Another reason is a lack of the will to do it.
Mature men don't run.
It was a very pleasant day. Read the news, took a bath, had a haircut, ate breakfast-lunch around teatime -- curry chicken over rice and a cup of hot milk tea on Jackson Street -- and smoked two bowls of Virginia. Bought some yau choi miu on Stockton. Ambled down to see the parrots.
No, I didn't get a blessed thing accomplished.
But other than the haircut I had no plans.
I spent most of the morning and evening reading.
Polished a few briars from the rotation.
Occasionally I scratched an ear.
And considered otters.
A day well-spent.
Productive.
The sleek and bounding lynx passed me at about twenty minutes after six in the evening, after I finished the first pipe. She ran from Grant to Hang Ah. That's an achievement.
I did not get a very good luck at her physique.
But she has clean shiny long hair.
And bright lively eyes.
Plus speed.
Beauty.
Well-rounded feline chases mouse. Mouse has no chance.
Well-rounded feline is victorious. Huzzah.
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