“Window…s,” I mused, sipping the whiskey. “they say the eyes are the windows of the soul”
i looked into hers… yes, she was tipsy and wittering about falling head phones and whacking wasps. Maybe there is a song in there somewhere but at the moment i wasn’t feeling to inspired.
Instead for some inexplicable reason, I just had the urge to sing “Reverend Blue Jeans”
I began to hum the tune and saw some Mayo at the corner of her mouth … Peters sandwich. I think she finally demolished that doorstep.
Unable to resist anymore, I burst into the Neil Diamond Song singing my Mondegreen version happily, believing every word to be correct. At the same time I whisked her around the floor.
And whispered , “Tell me more about these headphones. Is there something I should know about my neighbours… Yes?”
