Walking home from the bus stop
Thoughts of what to cook filled my mind. I got annoyed when I heard a child's voice loudly behind me. I refused to turn back to see what the commotion was, I wanted to stay with my thoughts - no disturbances whatsoever!
But out of the corner of my left eye, there they were. A bright bunch of balloons. A little boy. Riding a bike. Sounds a bit like a circus scene. But this little boy, I'd say between the ages of eight and ten, riding around on his little mountain bike making a commotion about selling balloons. I kid you not. Did I step into the twilight zone? He rode past me and to the couple ahead. "Would you like to buy one? It's only 50p."
"For that amount, I could buy ten of them!" the man growled back.
"Why don't you say you just don't want to buy them?" came the cheeky reply.
I burst out laughing.
Eventually at the top of the road, the wee businessman and I met up. His freckles made him look extremely mischievous.
He asked me the magic question.
I answered:"Why not? I know you are ripping me off, but this is very entrepreneurial of you."
"Which colour would you like?"
"The pink one please."
"Would you like another one? Or the whole bunch?" he pushed.
I rolled my eyes and thought that this little one could be the next Richard Branson but I said: "I think one is enough."
He put my payment away and thanked me quite gratefully. He looked back at me as he rode away, smiling and exposing his bright teeth. The rest of his balloons, still looking quite colourful albeit minus the pink one.
The balloon is now next to a vase of yellow roses in the kitchen downstairs. It made my crappy day all the better.