Posted in Prose, Stories


But you didn’t wave like an idiot to the wayfarer on the opposite lane or even the curious and notorious kid in the adjacent vehicle.
Neither did you act a bit paranoid, when you failed to locate your mate as you peeked behind the pole of a moving coach.
You barely look forward to being stuffed by your grandma.
Your fruity chapstick rolls off the table. You pick it up, inhale the scent, apply it, yet you don’t taste it, in spite of the temptation.
The first few pages of your slam book haven’t been filled by you.
Your bucket list doesn’t include an item from the vintage era.
Even the cat wonders why you didn’t challenge it to a stare down.
Random stationery products don’t fascinate you.
A broken crayon that belonged to a brand new set, didn’t leave you disheartened.
What are you, if you couldn’t relate to the above?
And since you seem too busy taking a selfie…
It’s time I classified you as A (as pronounced while reciting the alphabet)-
You are a vegetable
(Picture credits: Vanessa Mckeown)


Your average girl.

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