THE PROGRESSION

It was rather cold in the city yesterday. As you would expect. Kind of March/April-ish. Which reminded me of the time I came down with a horrible flu which floored me for several days the year I had my stent put in, when I was still a bit unhealthy. So I decided to go have curry at a chachanteng which does a nice version, before smoking my pipe. Good curry weather.
Cutest little person there having fries with her grandma. Mahogany hair, deep deep shiny brown. Curious pale bug-like face. Extremely small delicate hands.


After finishing my meal and cup of milk tea I headed out into the gale, and ran into an old friend at the busstop. He got off four blocks before me. I had to convince a baifkoof (desi idiot) that he was in way before I escaped. He seemed somewhat dense.

It was less windy on the other side of the hill. Perfect pipe smoking conitions. The caffeine still coursed warmly through my veins, and my feet were far less cold than they had been.
I followed behind two little girls and their grandfather (爺爺 'yeh yeh') who had left the school play ground. The smaller one, while gaily swinging her stuffed monkey, tried to kick her older sister in the rear behind grampa's back. Sort of a surreptitious sideways full leg swing. Third try, success. Grampa oblivious. The older sister made sure to walk a little further away.
The stuffed monkey seemed to giggle.

They weren't walking very fast, so without even trying the gap narrowed. I was at this point keenly aware that the monkey was a trouble maker, and detrmined not to catch his attention. Monkeys, no matter how large or small, are unpredictable, and one should not get on their bad side. Lest noxious substance materializes or gets flung. This is a profound insight, as well as darn good life advice.

When I got to my street, I peeled away.

Home before the fog rolled in.

It was dark early.



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