Part Two

Happy 100th 23rd birthday to me!

The tea is running cold while I finish my illustration. The crumbs of my half eaten, lemon tea-cake trails a path leading to a roughly drawn boy, done by pieces of broken, old chalk, on the wooden table.

It's a typical Saturday morning with nobody else in the corner coffee shop other than me, the unwanted, and the girl, twirling a strand of her golden locks, standing behind the counter, the uninterested.

I am done with my drawing. The boy is now holding a pink balloon, its irregular shape forming a flamingo. The tea forgotten, the cake destroyed.

This is a good start.