THE OPTIMIST | Poor souls, you will get bashed on the subway, boob swiped on the bus, have people spit on your neck, share sweat at the end of the day and make friends with the foxes who prefer nappies to food.
What transpires is that I have unwittingly sponsored the next incentive tour these people may take to the World Cup. I have paid for tuition fees, face lifts and the odd Learjet. This for signing a bunch of papers.
Sometimes love is not too careful about being practical. You are not supposed to fall in love with someone who lives thousands of miles away.
Life was wonderful she concluded and meant to be tasted, like one of her koeksusters.
You have to laugh at the Londoners around you when the temperature soars. All bouncy in the morning, singing ‘Oh what a beautiful morning’ as they jump on their bicycles or walk briskly to the underground. Poor fools, just give it a few hours. Evening time and our tiny balconies are littered with corpses, finally having succumbed to the wilting of the day.
Much has changed between the days when Apollo was worshipped on Delos and today, where the only pious ones are the sun-worshippers. But human beings have, predictably, stayed just the same.