The Last Moorish King

Sunny day in Britannia

Perfect sunny day. I was walking a promenade that is vehicle-free for 200 years. It is a lot of time, almost as much as the ruling of Queen Elizabeth II. At the end of the promenade I had to cross a car street, so, as a well behaved citizen I stopped in the red traffic lights. On the other side of the road was a family. The economically perfect family: the parents, male and female, and their children, apparently a boy and a girl. I called them perfect, because single persons are always penalized in the price of things, such as hotel rooms and even food that usually comes in family-size packs which are cheaper but who wants to buy meat for four when you are alone? Not that being single and lonely is bad. Sex is great when you are alone, and you don’t even have to talk to your partner when you finish - Just turn off the DVD and clean yourself.

The father, I mean, the spouse, I mean, the adult male of the family, was taller than average as opposite to the mother that was rather short. Both children were average size. What caught my attention to this family was the fact that their all licking ice-creams. The children avid of the sugar and fat in it and yet struggling with the technique of eating it without getting too dirty, the father tasting it with sobriety and the mother, which was not the least attractive by the way, was licking the ice-cream with such deft tongue strokes that one wonders whether they should create TV shows about the art of ice-cream licking.

I was still gazing at them with the curiosity of a biologist (that I am) observing a newly found specimen, when they decided to cross the street. And there I stood impassive as a car hit them and shattered their small, and big, bones and a puddle of blood formed by the four person’s blood. Funny that there is an expression “my own blood” referring to relatives.

When the traffic lights finally turned green I crossed the street, which caused some annoyance because of the blood. I had just put on some new shoes I did not want to get stains of blood on them. They were expensive shoes and you know how hard those stains are to remove. So I had to make a detour and got a headache with all the fuss and police sirens, ambulances, etc. What a waste of time! They should have just called the coroner. To much hassle in a perfect sunny day because some people don’t respect traffic lights. What a bad example for their children.


P.S. – The sun kept shining.