the queer incidents

the queer incidents

The Food Incident

I bought a bag of about 20 green grapes for 1buck. I ate 5, Sarah ate 2. She left it on the table when I said I wanted to go to the toilet. I kept chiding her for leaving my grapes behind. She insisted that bringing it to the toilet was gross, and anyway, no one would steal them.

BUT. When we came back, it was gone! The whole bag of 13 grapes! Gone! Raahh. I was really craving for grapes.

After school, I bought a packet of Yamme Soldier Noodles snack, strawberry Pocky and a cup of Ribena cos I figured I couldn't finish an entire bottle. Again, I needed to go to the toilet. The wonders of nature's calls eh? So this time, I arranged both packets of snacks around the drink, left my papers and bag and jacket on the table beside the food and then went to the toilet.

When we came back, everything was still there, including the drink! Happy!

BUT. When Sarah took her first sip, she found a bug swimming in the red-pink liquid.

Lesson to learn: Go to the toilet before you buy your food. Tsk!

The Yellow Bird Incident

Sarah and I were walking across the track to the gym this evening. Sarah was kicking stones away from the track. I kicked one too. And then a lump of grey and yellow appeared in front of me. I walked up and took a closer look, to find out why the stone was yellow. Only to see a tiny little yellow hummingbird lying in the middle of the track, motionless, with its legs frozen in mid-air. The bird was so small any child would be able to cup it in her hands.

It was a really sad sight. I don't know why. It's struck me that the bird was just carefreely flying carefreely, trying to make its way home when life just ended on it. Life just walked away. Right there, on the track.

We took the bird to the grasspatch next to the track (not the field, if that's what you toots are thinking of), laid it among the taller grass beside an unknown plant, and covered it with a dead leaf. Whispered my quiet blessings, and walked away.

I don't know why I did that, but it felt good. Rest in peace, little yellow bird.
7's a nice number; count back the months.