FERRET:
I had seen him at supermarket the week before. He had been walking a blue iguana past the cleaning products. With sunglasses on. Today was a ferret. I made up my mind to speak to him and approached with caution, having seen a documentary on ferrets the night before. “Is it acceptable to put salt on your cornflakes?” I asked the pale man. He removed his sunglasses and winked at me, with his good eye. “I thought so,” I said. The ferret looked me up and down and I could tell he was drunk. The pale man then spoke slowly in a Northern Spangalese accent. “I recently returned from London,” he said. “I flew first class for a business class fare,” he said. “Virgin Atlantic Upper Class,” he said. He was plainly insane, so I smiled and gave the ferret my business card.
DANCER:
I don’t often eat caviar for breakfast. Perhaps as rarely as twice a week. But it was only Wednesday. Or Dorisday. The lady in the tutu interrupted me mid-bite. She was licking a breakfast dog. “I was born to dance,” she sang as ketchup dribbled down her chin. Her wooden leg betrayed her. I quickly changed the subject to geography. “What’s the lay of the land?” I asked. She tapped her wooden leg with the heel of her red stiletto three times. Her balance was uncanny. “I landed this evening,” she said. “First class amenities for a business class fare,” she said. “Virgin Atlantic Upper Class,” she screamed, as if she had won at bingo. It was plain insanity. So I stared at her leg. Teak. Or maybe mahogany.
DOG:
A dog followed me home from the supermarket eight and three quarter days ago. Not a big dog. But not a small one either. I let it in and made a pot of tea. It didn’t care for the tea, but it ate all the digestives. I drew a picture of the dog in purple crayon and placed it at the supermarket. We watched the news every night and I became quite fond of him. I called him Derrick, after a bully in my school. Yesterday there was a knock at the door.“I’m here,” the woman said. “But where have you been?” I asked. “I’m sorry, I’m married,” she said. “My husband is in London,” she said. “He flew first class for a business class fare. Virgin Atlantic Upper Class,” she whispered.She was plainly insane. So I gave her the dog.
