Noble

At the hour when the rosy fingers of the dawn start to crack I climbed, rapid as a tongue of flame, into a bus, of the S-line of sinuous course. I noticed, with the precision and acuity of a Red Indian on a warpath, the presence of a young man whose neck was longer than that of the swift-footed giraffe, and whose felt hat was adorned with a plait like the hero of an exercise in style. Baleful Discord with breasts of soot came with her mouth reeking of a nothingness of toothpaste. Discord, I say, came to breathe her malignant virus between this young man with the giraffe neck and the plait round his hat, and a passenger of irresolute and farinaceous mien. The former addressed himself to the latter in these terms: "I say, you, anyone might think you were treading on my toes on purpose!" Having said these words, the young man with the giraffe neck and the plait round his hat quickly went and sat down.

Later, in the Cour de Rome of majestic proportions, I again caught sight of the young man with the giraffe neck and the plait round his hat, accompanied by his friend, an arbiter elegantiarum, who was uttering these words of censure which I could hear with my agile ear, censure which was directed to the most exterior garment of the young man with the giraffe neck and the plait round his hat: "You ought to diminish its opening by the addition or elevation of a button to or on its circular periphery."

Lauren RichardsComment