Brookside Park – Part 7 : Finale

***Read part 6 here.***

“A very Good morning, Londoners. Specially the one straying around Brookside Park at this early hour!”, Aria greeted her audience. “We have an interesting discussion lined up for today, so stay tuned, for some madness!”

The phone rings.

“We have our first call already!”

Aria picks up the call.

“Good morning, RJ Arkaya. This is Miss Lost-These-Days.”

“Good morning! So why do you feel so lost these days?” , Aria asked the caller.

“I tried to make what seemed like a good decision for myself, and I’m quite convinced I did. But I can’t figure out this hollow feeling within me.”

“So what was this decision that you had to make?”

“Letting go of someone who wasn’t right for me.”

“Does that make you feel bad?”

“No. I think both he and I are better off, without each other in our lives.”

“Then what is it that you feel hollow about?”

“I’m really finding it hard to figure that out.”

“Do you feel wronged?”

“I do. Constantly.”

“Did you ever express that sentiment?”

“I did.”

“So what’s more to this than just that? You decided to end the story. You expressed all that you had to. I don’t see what’s left.”

“Exactly. Nothing is. That’s the point though, isn’t it? You give something so much importance at some point in your life. Only to realize months later, that it doesn’t work. All of your efforts were useless. That’s not a good feeling.”

“So you can’t cope with failure?”

“It’s a mix of a lot of things. Yeah, it sucks to fail. It sucks to not have people around that you thought you could rely on. It sucks to realize that you need to rely on people in the first place.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t rely on people then.”

“I’m not an asocial person. I don’t like not having anyone around. Yeah, I open up in front of very few people. And if I do, I usually want them around. That’s how most human beings work, don’t they? That’s why people have friends.”

“I agree, that is how most human beings work. Socializing is good for you and your mental health.”

“So I guess I do feel sad about that.”

“It’s only human to grieve the loss of someone’s presence in your life. But you need to remember that as a social being, you need to make new associations when old ones disengage. And closing yourself off doesn’t help with that.”

“I agree.”

“So let me tell you about this young bloke that I met in the morning today. Right before I came to work.”

“Brookside park has a new explorer?”

“Yeah. His name rhymes with Not-so-well.”

“That’s odd.”

“Seems like he took your advice.”

“Did he explain why he was that rude?”

“It’s got to do with the girl that broke his heart.”

“I see.”

“I asked him to tune into today’s show. We might have a new young follower to our show. So let’s give him and a few others a chance to speak, shall we? Till then, do you have any song requests?”

“I want it that way, by Backstreet Boys”

“That’s such a 90s kid song to request. But before I play that, I have a new call.”

“Hi, I just listened to the story of our new community member and I think she has an amazing voice. Is she a singer? Greetings from Always-up-for-a-Cup-of-Tea”

“That’s cute! I’m sure Miss Lost-These-Days is listening.”

The phone rings again.

“Wow, we sure have a lot of air traffic today. Good morning, welcome to PerSonic.”

“Hi, Arkaya, I wanted to tell Miss Lost-These-Days that the fried chicken in the new corner shop is just amazing. She should come by if she’s hoping to bump into Food-Hogger.”

“Okay, community folks, that’s it for trying to cheer up our peer. I’m sure she needs nothing more than some tea and fried chicken while humming the tune to “I want it that way”. And if that doesn’t work, she knows where she can find me!”

Brookside Park – Part 6

*** Read part 5 here. ***

“Great, we’ve got our first call. Do you want to take this one?”

“You have an option?”, Gul inquired, being the radio newb that she was.

“One ALWAYS has options, in life… and at the radio! You don’t need to pick up every phone-call that life throws at you! Sometimes letting them go to the “missed” tab just saves you of a lot of headache!”

“And possibly makes the caller really mad”, Gul stated, matter-of-factly.

“Well, you can’t please everyone”, Aria shrugged.

“But it’s probably a good idea to at least keep the audience who listens to you drone on for hours, happy.”

The phone stops ringing.

“And that’s how you miss a perfectly harmless call. Just spend enough time contemplating. How does this make you any different from me?”

“Sadly, it doesn’t.”

“Don’t be too sad, we have another call and I presume that you’d like to pick it up.”

“I’ll do it for the audience…”, Gul said, dully.

“Hi, is this radio PerSonic?”

“Good morning, you’re on PerSonic and how is it going Mr….?”, Aria ratted out.

“Not so well, I guess.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that Mr. Not-so-well. What’s your real name though?”, Aria asked, passively.

“I guess I’m going to stick to Not-so-well.”

“So what brings you to this state?”

“There’s this girl…”

“Let me guess, she broke up with you?”, Aria piped in.

“Yeah. I can’t get her out of my head”, the anonymous caller replied.

“Would you like to help with this, Gul?”

“Well, I guess you could engage in some hobbies… I’ve heard that Brookside Park is a great place to roam around in the mornings!”, Gul advised, excitedly.

“Yeah, she really does think so.”

“Okay thanks. Gotta go.”

“That was abrupt!” Gul sounded offended.

“Don’t think about it. They’re usually disturbed and don’t take kindly to any advice.”

“Wow this job is tougher than I thought it to be.”

“Next call!”

“Hi this is Not-too-bad.”

“I guess the theme of today’s show is Not-that-great! But good to know. Do you have a song request?”, Aria asked the caller.

“Yeah, I do. For the poor bloke who just hung up on you guys. Give him “Here comes the sun” by Beatles. Just step outside, soak in some Vitamin D for the serotonin rush, Mr. Not-so-well!”

“That’s an all time favorite of mine! Great choice! Have a not-too-bad day young man!”

Aria cues up the music for the listener. The mics are off.

“Wow. That was weird! And sweet!”, said Gul, amused.

“It’s a community, Gul. We’ve all been through mental issues some time or another. It’s totally fine to embrace that side of yourself and help out another in need.”

“So that’s what this is? A community of people with mental issues?”

“Why do you single them out like they’re different?”

“I mean, I guess we need to talk to them more sensitively, if they have issues going on.”

“Well, a feigned sensitivity can just feel isolating and very foreign to the person. What helps more is just talking like a friend would. More sense of inclusivity and normalcy.”

“I see.”

There’s a long pause.

“You’ve had issues too, I’m sure. I don’t think you’re over your break-up yet”, Aria nudged.

“Well, I just try to push any thoughts related to it, aside.”

“It’s probably not the best idea to ignore it.”

“What can I say about it though, Aria? There’s nothing I can do to fix things. I don’t want to be with him. Period.”

“That’s not what’s bugging you. Are you telling me that you’d wake up at 5am in the morning for weeks straight, if you didn’t have stuff going on?”

“I haven’t been able to sleep properly”, Gul admitted.

“You shouldn’t hesitate to speak about your issues.”

“Well, I can’t. The person that I’d like to talk to about this, doesn’t exist in my life any more. There are all of these after-effects, but I’ve removed the root cause from my life. And now I don’t know what to do with the off-shoots.”

“I think you need to make a call.”

“What if he doesn’t pick up?”

“Well then he’s probably saving himself of a huge headache. But I meant PerSonic.”

“Okay then. Tomorrow, same time. Different place.”

“So, I guess I won’t see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. But you’ll hear from me.”

***Read part 7 here***

Brookside Part – Part 5

*** Read part 4 here. ***

“So, radio jockey eh?”

“Well yeah, that’s one aspect of it”

The first time that Gul had heard RJ Arkaya was two months back. She had been having a rough week and had tuned in to the radio, early in the morning, hoping to listen to some nice melodies that could put her to sleep after failing to do so for five hours straight. The ongoing midterms and subsequent caffeine overdose weren’t really helping either.

Arkaya or Aria always had some rather different and often quirky solutions to life’s problems. She had a dedicated hotline on her show where she would answer queries and play music based on the mood of the caller. Music therapy, she called it.

“More like last-resort go-to Agony aunt for insomniacs”, Aria clarified.

“Seems like you really love your job”.

“I actually do something else for a living. This is more of a thing that I do to give back to the society a little. But yeah, I do enjoy it, in all honesty!”

“So, if I may ask you, how did RJ Arkaya come into being?”

The two girls walked towards the studio, as they engaged in what seemed like the first normal conversation between them. This was Aria in her natural state. The shields were going down.

“I guess it started with the notion that being on radio implies that you get heard a lot. At some point, I felt like the people around me weren’t listening to what I was trying to tell them. And I had a LOT to say.”

“So, what’s your story?”, asked Gul, intrigued.

“Like everyone else out there does, I have one too. And it’s appropriately consequential to what I do. But that’s not the point. You get to a stage, where after you’re done being heard, you realize that there are thousands out there waiting to be heard themselves, and you don’t really hold the authority to seek that privilege just for yourself. So you let others speak.”

“But doesn’t that get tiring too? Just listening?”

“Yes it does. That’s what conversations exist for. When you speak in front of an audience so big, you open yourself to criticism from all around. There’s no point in just stating opinions. There needs to be someone who can counter your weaker opinions. Critique them and break them down. And there is no harm in owning up to these either. Just makes you have better opinions in the long run.”

“Must be a different feeling, sitting behind the broadcast console. Being heard but not being seen. A perfect introvert’s stage.”

“Well the stage has been set up and the audience is waiting. We go live in five. You’re welcome to join me!”

“This should be fun!”.

***Read part 6 here.***

Brookside Park – Part 4

*** Read part 1, part 2, part 3 ***

“I thought you were an early riser. Why are you so late?”, Aria quizzed Gul.

Gul had had to run to catch the bus. She was panting.

“I mean, you used to manage to come early enough when there were no buses to catch!”. Aria was sitting in the second to last row of the bus near the window. She had reserved the spot next to her for Gul.

“It’s something to do with buses, I think. I somehow always end up running after the bus.” Gul explained, apologetically.

“Yeah, all the private limos were taken, so this was the only option that we had. Oh well!”

“Monday morning blues?”

“Nah just a general state of mind.”

“So where exactly are we going?”

“Wait, what did you tell the driver?”

“I said, “to wherever that mean pale chick with the straight black hair from the back is going” “, Gul replied snarkily.

“Oh right, you’re a student at the university, you just need to flash your ID”, Aria replied, half smiling.

“And that”, Gul smiled back, jubilant.

“Radio PerSonic, that’s where we’re going.”

“I love that channel. They have some great content and songs. I love listening to that RJ… Arkaya. She usually has some great advice.”

“I see.”

“Do you listen to her as well?”

“I have no option do I?”

“So, do you know her?”

“We’ve met. She’s a bit of a drone sometimes. She seems too full of herself sometimes.” Aria shrugged.

“No way, she’s amazing!” Gul was clearly fangirling.

“Yeah well she has to get down from the bus, her stop has arrived.”

“No way! So that’s how you know that I’ve been to the park so often! “If you find yourself sulking and your sorrows bulking, Brookside park is a great place to be at” ”, Gul recited, ecstatically.

“Yeah let’s get out of the bus first, girl. I’ll give you an autograph later.”

“I’m not settling for anything less than a selfie and a song dedication on your show, you know!”

“I’m already regretting this.”

*** Read part 5 ***

Brookside Park – Part 3

*** Read part 1 here. Read part 2 here. ***

“I thought you’d never come!”

“It’s a Saturday morning. It’s a big enough deal that I have woken up,” Aria mumbled, sleepily.

It had been yet another day past their last meeting, but it felt like it had been almost two weeks. Gul had reached their meetup location at exactly 5:00am.

“So, why do you need to catch a 5:15am bus from across the street every day?”, Gul inquired.

“Neat observation skills, Sherlock. You might be a smarty pants at your university, people like me settle for the more regular jobs.”

“So what exactly do you do that requires you to work this early in the morning? A paper route?”

“Yeah, the bus makes it so much more convenient to throw the newspaper bundles around, across multiple blocks.”

“Funny.”

“You started it, thought I’d play along. You might not have noticed yet, but I’m very good at playing along.”

“That, you are. So you’re going to continue being evasive about what your background really is, huh?”, Gul demanded.

“Familiarity is an overkill, mystery is the real thrill.”

“And early morning banalities are almost tranquil.”

“Touche.”

“So, if you’re not going to tell me anything about yourself, I wonder what we can even converse about,” Gul probed, looking puzzled.

“That’s the thing with most people these days, isn’t it? You can just not strike up a conversation with someone without getting to know them. “What do you do for a living?”, “Where are you from?”, “Are you committed?”, “How are you feeling, this fine morning?” And the worst of them all… “What’s up? How’s it going?”. People have become so immune to the last one, it’s just a replacement phrase for “Hi” or “Hello”. No one even bothers to answer!”, Aria advocated.

“Good to know that, apart from enforcing feminist agendas, you also like to pull apart other societal conventions.”

“I’m all for bringing about a good change into the society.”

“So are you some sort of an activist?”

“Well, keeping aside the fact that you’re still trying to analyze who I really am, I guess I’ll humor you for a bit. Yes, I am involved in a few social causes. In fact, I urge you to join me. We have a meeting on Monday at 6:00am. Join us, if you’re free, which I think you are. You spend way too much time at this park you know.”

“Hey, it’s a cosy spot! Nice for some alone time,” Gul justified.

“That’s true, but don’t linger around too late in the evenings. You are intimidating enough, but the boogeyman doesn’t know that yet.”

“Also, how do you even know?”

“I have my sources.”

“Have you been spying on me or something?”

“No. I just guessed. All it took to confirm my suspicions was you admitting to them. You’re a very easy prey Gul.”

“Umm. What kind of causes do you support again?”, said Gul, perplexed.

“You’ll find out. Monday. Don’t be late, the bus leaves exactly at 5:17am from the bus stop across the street.”

*** Read part 4 here. ***

Brookside Park – Part 2

*** Read the first part here. ***

“So, why did you break his heart?”

It was exactly a day past the last time they had met. It hadn’t even rained yesterday, but Gul had decided to forgive Aria. After all, they didn’t really know each other. Aria owed her nothing.

Gul had spent the rest of her day trying to absorb the reality of her break-up. She was single after almost a year of dating her previous boyfriend. She didn’t know what to do. She felt lost.

Who was Aria anyway? Gul had wondered. It didn’t matter much, she had concluded. She just needed a new friend.

“I felt trapped. I needed to grow personally, and I felt that the more I stayed in the relationship, the more it inhibited that.”

“Why? Was he controlling?”

“No, he just liked me too much for my good.”

“Kids these days are so dramatic about love”, Aria nodded dismissively.

“Well, it seems like you have quite a lot of experience in the department”, Gul replied defensively.

“I do, that’s why I know what I’m talking about, dear,” Aria smiled at Gul in a matter-of-fact way. “So what made you pull the plug on the relationship?”

“I guess he would always expect me to act in a certain way and I wouldn’t. I would have had to be someone I wasn’t, to fit his description.”

“So you “it’s not you, it’s me”-ed him? Of course that makes you appear as the bad person then”.

“What’s blaming him going to get me anyway?”

“You seem pretty sure of yourself, good for you!”

“Thanks, I try.”

“So is that it?”

“For now, yes.”

“Well, you did the right thing, I’m sure. But let’s move on. Have you heard of this thing called the Bechdel test?”

“Is that the test that requires movies to have at least one scene where two women talk about something other than a man?”

“Yes, precisely. It’s kind of a feminist agenda. The expectation is that we have lives beyond the presence of the men in our lives. And so far, we’re flunking that test real bad.”

“Okay,” Gul said, decidedly. No more moping. “This calls for another round of introductions then. I’m a student, I’m just a year into my PhD in Data Science at the university. What do you do for a living?”

“Wow, you sound really smart. Almost intimidates me. So much that I gotta rush.”

“Oh no you’re not doing this to me again!” Gul exclaimed, exasperatedly.

“Watch me!” Aria replied, mischievously.

“At least answer my question!”

“Saturday, tomorrow. Same time, same place”

“What’s the point if you’re going to flee exactly 15 mins into the conversation? Believe it or not, you’re not enigmatic enough for me to come by every day at 5 am, just so I can be bailed on.”

“Girl, you sound possessive already!” Aria huffed, walking away, swiftly. “I have a bus to catch!”

“What? At this time? What do you even do? Where do you go? You are giving off some really creepy vibes you know!” Gul shouted.

“Well then you’ve found your match,” Aria yelled back.

“I’m really hoping for a longer conversation tomorrow, okay?”, Gul conceded. Aria was already half a mile away.

“We will, I swear!”

*** Read part 3 here. Part 4 here.***

Brookside Park – Part 1

“Hi. I know that we don’t know each other, and I may be coming off as extremely creepy, but can I talk to you for a bit?”, she asked the only other person, a girl, in a two kilometer radius. Then again, it was five in the twenty-third morning of October, and she wasn’t really expecting to see anyone at the local park. Octobers are really cold in London, Ontario.

“Yeah, I guess”, the other girl replied, disconcerted. “Is everything okay? You look the kind of pale that even cold weather can’t justify”.

“Yeah, well, I just broke up with someone, so I think the emptiness and chill are more than justified.”

“So, how often do you reveal disturbingly deep emotional issues to random strangers on a chilly mornings? I’m Aria, by the way.”

“Not very often. I’m a blithe young spirit on most days. This just happens to be a rather dreary day. And, nice to meet you Aria, I’m Gul”.

“Well, it’s just five in the morning and the sun hasn’t even risen yet. I’d give today another chance.”

“You sound like what I do on a sunny day, Aria. Thank you, but I just feel really hollow and bogged down right now.”

“Sounds familiar. Been there, done that. So carry on, I’m all ears.”

“Actually, what are you even doing here at this time? Pretty sure you have some stuff going on, yourself.”

“You’ll be surprised at finding out how many people I end up meeting here every other day. This seems to be the go-to time and place for disheartened souls.”

“So you come here every day? This isn’t exactly morning walk weather.”

“I have my reasons. It’s probably going to take more than one run-ins for me to reveal them to you, you see. Unlike you, I’m pretty blithe right now”.

“Umm… okay.”

“So what’s your deal? Some guy break your heart?”

“Actually, to him and the rest of the world, I’m the heart-breaker.”

“That’s quite heart-breaking”.

“You really don’t want to add to the list”.

“Hey! Empathy is the best form of sympathy!”

“Anyway, so it’s not the best feeling in the world, you know.” She had just begun opening up.

“I know, kid. Sorry to add on to your disappointment with life, but it looks like it’s going to rain. And I’d like to take a rain-check.”

“Wait what? You’re leaving already? What about the day getting brighter and empathy outsmarting sympathy?” She sounded dismayed.

“It’s not a book sweetheart, this is real life. Take on each day as it comes, one day at a time. You know where to find me.”

And so Aria left the scene, and Gul didn’t really want to be left behind, alone and sad in a rain storm. But the conversation wasn’t over yet. She was going to come back for more.

***  Read part 2 here. Read part 3 here. Part 4 here.***

Dateville

Premise:- Conversations with my boyfriend on our date, sampled every hour in the form of journal entries.

Theme:- Normal text by me
Text in italics are inputs by Drake.

1:35pm

I began the date with a mail invitation. Drake RSVPed positively. Drake took an Uber cool way of reaching my place. I received a call around 1:30pm from him, stating he’s “lost”. Yeah right. He has a high end phone and speaks the local dialect. Not smart enough to misdirect me, but cute nevertheless. He thought he was not being obvious, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

To boost his male ego, I took him to the nearest candy store and bought him a lot of candy. Most of them doubled as sexual innuendos. Like marshmallows… Dark chocolate… I also bought an extra Sour Punk which I just wanted for myself but handed over to the punk mistakenly and he is using it as a fishing bait for the next 100 years apparently. Wonder how many fishes he can catch.

Sounds too fishy. And the marshmallows are squishy.

We then waited for our first course at The Peppermill Bistro. We hoped to get more than just pepper on our plates. We ordered for Italian herbed fries, minestrone soup and margherita pizza. Drake made me feel bad about spending 10 bucks extra for Italian seasoning on normal fries. He didn’t realize that I was already over-spending on the fries. It’s all about the ambience in such fancy rooftop restaurants. Period.

Took an actual period from typing.

2:45pm

Drake was being Drake. I kept throwing compliments at him and he kept lapping them up and showing me attitude in return. I told him he was treating me like bro and to play a game of catch with my ball not cricket.

We talked about a lot of different topics. The pizza sparked a conversation on us planning to visit Tuscany, Italy (Drake) and Tuscano, an Italian restaurant in a mall nearby (me).

Speaking of Italy, Drake spoke of wanting to go to Israel to ask out military chicks. I know. There’s absolutely no correlation between these two topics. The algorithm generating random thoughts in his mind is unparalleled.

He then started staring at the owl pendant (I think), which was hovering over my chest. What? The owl has alluring eyes!

He fed me thin crust pizza with tomatoes to keep me healthy and I fed him fries to make him healthier. (He’s thin and I like to believe I’m fat, though he insists I’m not. Typical.)

He missed me in the morning so he made eggs for breakfast (l like all things sunny and siding up…. eggs and mornings make the perfect combination).

He said he ate a proper breakfast before coming for the date so that he could focus on me and not on his food. That was cute. He said he liked feeding me. I told him that I’m the only feed he would ever need to read. Smooth? I didn’t think so either.

He told me he wanted to cook me a nice breakfast some time. The last time he did, it backfired cause I was being moody and scolded him for putting to much salt in the eggs. He asked me to wear a mood band so he can be careful and that my mood could be color coded.

I asked him to come up, instead with a code on emotion recognition to classify my mood patterns.

He gave me theory on complimenting which I didn’t agree with. But politely nodded to anyway to assuage his male ego. According to him, if he compliments me too much, they won’t have as powerful an effect. I think that was just an excuse for him not being able to come up with good ones.

I told him, that with girls, the more you compliment them, the more they like it… just like the more you age your wine, the better it tastes… and both of these go very well with food (Thank you. Quotable quote for the day).

2:55pm

We went to a Mexican restaurant called The Heat, as things got more heated. Drake didn’t like that I forgot the one tiny compliment that he gave me. He said he wanted to jump off the balcony where we were seated (Yup, from one rooftop restaurant to another). I could never have taken that seriously because 1. Drake has a sociopathic sense of humor, which should never be taken seriously. 2. We are both scared of heights, so it won’t happen.

The menu arrived in some time, and Drake got calmer. Food resolves all conflict. Hear that Mr. PM ??

He commented on Horchata on the menu…that has appeared on a Buzzfeed video, cause he pays attention to my interests. Nice realization.

We ordered for a virgin margarita. He explained the difference between margherita and margarita. Italian and Spanish words…. except that he faltered with the etymology. Apparently both words are rooted at Margaret… or daisy.

As two decked up people (a couple) entered the restaurant, Drake commented on how fake they looked. In response, I said “Sorry, I didn’t look at her boobs”. Just cause I simply must say outrageous things.

According to Drake, we look like real people, while those people looked like fake plastic dolls. I said I didn’t know what that’s like because I never got fake plastic dolls as a child (running joke, I’m a tomboy because my parents never got me dolls to play with. Instead I had to play with my brother’s cars).

Speaking of boobs, Drake dreamt about fondling with my boobs and woke up to find there were no boobs. Because I have promised previously that I won’t make this a horror story, I’m going to move past the boob ghost. Or through it.

Drake then proceeded to ask me a serious question about how life would be after we got married. I told him that I like excitement in my life …. I am a curious soul. I love learning and experiencing new things.

He told me he’s trying to keep up with that… I asked him what he thought. He told me that he liked working seriously for 5 days of the week on his personal growth and job and 2 days to relax. Then he told me that he thinks the last few months at his first job killed his adventurous spirit and curiosity.

I told him how the many convoluted discussions that I’ve had with my dad as a kid, have shaped me to be an ever curious soul who is always looking out for challenges.

He told me how he doesn’t quite know how his childhood experiences have shaped him into who he is today. He should perhaps look into that.

He told me about him reading encyclopedias from Childcraft and racing in make believe cars with his younger brother… something he was taught by his favorite cousin.

As we finished our pan seared fish on cilantro rice (yum!) and street style churros, we asked for the bill. I asked Drake about the concept of tipping. He told me that in restaurants, it’s called gratuity. He also told me how tips are given in bars, because customers tip the extra money in empty glasses that the bartender collects.

Drake is a know-it-all. Drake is cute. Drake has the answer to all of my questions. Be like Drake.

We ended the date at The Heat soon and Drake told me that he doesn’t want to worry about anything for a few days. He wants to go go-karting.

4:00pm

We walked towards my lab. I asked him to come to my department terrace to find a fun way to end the day.

It had been ages since we have been together in a campus environment. He didn’t want to face unwanted people and luckily they weren’t there (read: people from my lab who had/have a thing for me).

We went to the terrace and wrote a small note. Rolled the paper and stuck it into a secret place. Something to visit when I miss him. Also something to water proof, next time I visit. Brought our date to an end with a sweet kiss.

5:15pm

I then dropped him to the main gate and made sure he got a cab back home. Was a beautiful day overall. Nice to observe my bunny smile and let loose. The purpose was to make him feel loved and his purpose was to pass on the bad cold and throat infection that he had acquired from going to a chilly place for a top secret mission.

Must say that both purposes were fulfilled.

*** end of chapter 1***