drink, kiss, melon

 Outside the pub it is not only homo sapiens that enjoys a drink, though I suspect that this is only water.

On the pavement on the other side of our hedge we hear some footsteps stop. There is a pause. "I thought you were going to kiss me or something," says a female voice. A male voice mumbles an inadequate evasion as the footsteps move on.

Half way through unloading my trolley on to the conveyor at the checkout this morning I remember the water melon I am supposed to buy. I have about a minute before the cashier is ready for me. "Forgive me," I say to the woman behind me in the queue. "I won't be a minute". When I return I find that the remains of my shopping has been transferred to the conveyor. "Thank you," I say to my benefactor. "I have two hands," she says and smiles.