Style No. 12: Hesitations

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Style No. 12: Hesitations

Hesitations

There was, there was… what? A pygmy horse. No, wait, I think maybe it was a young boy. Yes, a young boy dressed in snakeskin pants and playing an alto sax. Or was it an orange t-shirt and a whistle? Maybe it was the whistle. Could’ve been.

The look on his face said introspection. But then again, that could just be the way horses are. His golden retriever, who he’d also painted orange in some cruel joke — unless it was only a flowering shrub? or his best friend? — was tied to the boy’s shoulders by a rope, or maybe an arm. This second entity was singing to the herd of bison in the distance, unless it was only people. In which case he was probably just eyeing them. Yes, that makes sense.

Something passed by… An ice cream cart? A small meteor? A steroid-enhanced rabbit? A nervous mother? It must’ve been this last one, I’m quite sure, although I think she was even older than a mother. Who can really say. She had a Christmas tree erected on top of her head and decorated in beautiful crimson. Or was it simply a bunch of bananas wrapped in paper? Or an unidentified object secreted beneath her shawl? Hmm… I’ll put my money on the shawl. I’ve got a gut feeling about it. Though I did miss breakfast.

Meanwhile behind them an urbane hippopotamus was giving a lecture on business ethics. Or it could’ve been a fruit cart lady making smoothies. On the other hand, it might just have been a serious man looking knowingly the other way…

Now what were they? Mangoes? Oranges? Avocados? Bananas? Yes, must have been bananas, I’m quite sure. I think I clicked this in Bamako, Mali, in 2012, unless it was in London? Or Bengaluru? Or Hawaii?

Thanks for reading 🙂

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