Rantglass - because that's how things are.

Baked potatoes.

There we were, all lined up nicely in the queue, playing the waiting game. Again.

Red, yellow and green – another traffic light; four, five, six – as dawn awoke from night; ready, steady, go – then off we turned to the right.

And there they were: straight ahead of us, two glorious rainbows lingered for only but a while. The first harsh rays of the morning sun were about to wash them away, and there was absolutely nothing any one of us could do about it.

We could stop and smell the roses, but no one pauses to catch the fading colours of a rainbow.

Not all of us are rock stars.

Details of this entry.Wednesday, June 11, 2008, filed under Musings.
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