The Diary of Pink Pearl Continues: Im Wide Awake and Born Again! THE SMALL ISLAND OF GLORY AND GOOD Copyrights by Jes Fuhrmann All Rights Reserved TEN ELEVEN TWELVE “I’ll be right back!” Tanzania squeals to the parrots inside the aviary as she joins us. “I miss you!” she squeaks as I toss a fond look of admiration her way. Our carriage takes us down the busy roads, bringing us closer to the ocean as we pass over a small bridge, entering streets lined by tall, thin buildings hugging close to each other with barely enough space between them to maintain audio independence. “Boy, I bet I’d meet a lot more people here by calling out “redrum” from the upstairs windows!” I snicker as Honey carefully examines the small note with the handwritten instructions before her. “Yeah… That seems to make you really popular with our neighbors!” Tanzania chuckles as Honey guides our ride down the quiet streets. “Well, that gentleman and lady look pretty friendly!” she grins as the beautiful, brunette princess smiles and waves from inside their open vehicle. “Can we stop and meet them, Mommy?” I hint as she blows a kiss my way. “Maybe later, Pearlybird.” she mutters, “Susan’s waiting for us and I don’t like to keep people waiting.” she squints, looking at the tall, elegant castles. “Hmmm, now let’s see…” she attempts, “Right on Thirty second. Right again on Canal, okay… then left at Gazdag Lane… Yeah, got that…” she mumbles as the beamer carries us closer to the cold, humid, salt-water region. “Then left again at Le Var… hmmm?” she questions, glancing quickly down at the address scribbled on her white note. “Thirty nine sixteen?” she asks as our carriage slows to allow us a closer look. “That address is sixty-five fourteen!” she frowns as her face contorts in complete confusion. “And this is the beginning of Gazdag!” she argues, ordering our ride to pull over to a safe stop. “Well, let’s just walk around a bit…” she suggests, allowing the old vehicle to rest a while next to the solid, concrete surface. “Maybe she’ll come to us, huh Mommy?” I suggest as the men run to and fro, chasing each other before tossing the large, orange ball in the air. “Boink!” sounds the rubber ball as it hits the backboard and falls through the metal hoop. “Whooo hoo!” the ladies shout as they clap their hands for their chivalrous husbands. “Way to go, John Strawmyer!” the angelic, blonde woman hollers out as her pink highlights blow in the cool, ocean breeze. “That’s my Benny Boy!” her petite, blonde girlfriend squeals as the two ladies slap hands. Illustration by Daisy Timonan ;)
Posted on: Sat, 28 Jun 2014 05:58:52 +0000
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