Strawberry chocolate cake created to distract me from thoughts of real life, reality and responsibilities. A replacement of the three ‘r’s. Not quite the grade school lesson reflected in sound.
The bells are ringing for high society ladies. Too bad homeless people try to steal my bike. They make faces at me like that clown who kept repeating, ‘I’m gonna getcha! I’m gonna getcha!’ Gloved hands outstretched ducking past. Still able to ignite fear and queesiness at age 22. Dirty hands haunt dreams and memories of unnaturally orange hair.
Knatted with birthday cake honk the nose and continue.
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