Charlotte is having green tea and a biscuit reading O, The Oprah Magazine.
Suddenly while she is reading an AD about female hygiene the door bell rings.
She walks up to the front door her shoes go Flip Flop, Flip Flop on the laminate floor.
The door opens and small boy in a t-shirt with a anteater on it is standing in front of her.
“Can I help you?” She asks the boy.
The boy scratches his nose and answers. “Hello ma’am, I used to live here.”
“Oh, right. What do you want from me?” All she could think of was her green tea going cold.
He gets a photo from his jacket’s pocket and holds it in the air.
“This used to be my pet anteater.”
She inspects the boy, and sees he is holding a shovel and is wearing a backpack.
“Uhh, Ok and then..” She says.
He puts the photo back in his pocket “His name was Frederik and my father buried him in the backyard.”
She doesn’t know what to say but says something things she heard on Oprah once. “Oh you poor boy.”
“You see I really miss him, you know he loved eating ants.”
He tells her with his head down almost sobbing.
She gets down on her knee, “You just need to be brave, and strong!”
“Thank you Miss, but i was wondering if i could dig him up from the backyard.”
He looks up at her with teary eyes.
He wipes the tears away, “So i can give him a proper burial in the backyard of our new house.”
And she got all emotional, dries her tears and lets the boy in.
“You are such an inspiration. Not just to me, but for us all.”
She tells the boy while they walk through the house into the backyard.
“Take your time, and if anything needs moving let me know.” She tells him.
“It’s ok he is buried near this tree.” He tells her, and she watches him dig.
He hacks his shovel into the ground, and digs as if his life depended on it.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead from time to time, which looks like he is removing his tears to Charlotte.
A bang is heard as his shovel hits a metal box.
Charlotte is standing on the front of her feet hoping it would make her tall enough to look over the boy’s shoulders and see whats inside.
“Is.. Is it him?” She asks.
The boy opens his backpack and puts the metal box on and turns around,
“Yes Ma’am. It’s …”
She gets emotional again and lets the boy out.
After she closes the door he opens his backpack, takes out the metal box and opens it.
Inside is a Gameboy, Color as he mentioned to his friends.
His friends are waiting in front of the house, they pat him on the back as he reveals the Gameboy.
Charlotte is looking at them from the window of her living room.
So inspirational she thinks to herself, his friends wait for him to dig up his beloved pet and make him feel better
by putting an arm around his shoulders.
She sighs deeply, inhales and wipes the tears from her cheeks.

And her green tea has gone cold.
“Gosh darn it.” She yells.

It’s a hot summer day somewhere in France.
Flowers are releasing their sweet scent leading bee’s to their nectar.
A hot summer breeze pushes through a silent empty street.
Passing by the shining cars parked against the curb all the way to the end to inside the bus stop.
Where a girl is sitting reading a book, she flips to the next page and the wind strokes her hand just to help out.
The sun illuminates the spot around her eyes, her eyes are moving from left to right sometimes going back a word or two.
A guy who is clearly not dressed for this type of weather sits besides her on the bench.
She checks who just sat beside her and he looks back at her and he gives a friendly smile.
He keeps looking at her while she reads.
And she looks back from time to time just when he starts to look at something else.
He doesn’t speak any French but because he wants to express how she makes him feel at that very moment.
He tries in English but she doesn’t seems to understand English very well so he has to think up another way.
In his bag he carries a free guide of the city someone gave to him at the station.
On the back there are some common sentences and in one he finds what he wanted to say.

He reads.
What a beautiful view of the sea!                       Quelle belle vue de la mer !

So he tries to connect the part of Quelle Belle Vue with her by pointing and saying it in a poor sounding way.
She laughs covering her mouth and cheeks with her hand.
He takes it as a bad sign and sticks his head out of the bus stop to check if there was a bus coming yet.
While he checks she takes the guide from his hand and finds a word in French to tell him what she thinks.

She reads.

Do you like pizza?                                            Vous aimez la pizza ?

She plays around his eyes with her finger tips, “Do You Like..”
‘What you see’ he thinks, finishing her sentence in his head.
He smiles at her and she gets up and the bus stops in front of them.
She gets on it first, he follows her.
Inside the only one seat left and they sit next to each other.
They continue swapping words and laughing at each others pronunciation of them.

“The bubblegum I always keep in my pocket was nice and warm.
Like it had already been chewed on for me by an angel.
And it even tasted much better than it normally did.”

Gerard is standing still and he starts to regret giving a homeless guy some of his spare change.

“The end of the world is near.”
The bum turns over and wiggles his pale feet that stick out from under his blanket which is actually an old newspaper.

When people die the good go to heaven, the bad to hell.
Well thats what the bible says, luck has it that Conor is in heaven.
Ok not actually in heaven yet, but he is in the queue thats lined up at the gate.
Nobody in the queue seemed in a talking mood, but Conor can’t blame them
dieing still sucks even if you know you are getting into heaven.
The guy in front of him is let into heaven and the big gate that shine like pearl are closed again.
A old man with a white beard walks back to his desk and sits in his chair again.
He has his reading glasses on and he looks over them straight at Conor.
“Conor Mahoney?”
“Yes, yes sir.” Conor replies rather nervous.
“Don’t worry theres no test.”
The old man gets up from his chair and moves to the gate.
He is wearing a big robe and has big ring with lots of keys on it on his belt.
“Saint Peter right?” Conor asks the old man.
“Glad someone still knows who i am.”
He replies while removing the ring from his belt.
“Ok so lets see which key was it.”
The first key doesnt seem to fit the lock, and he starts with the next one.
“No, wait this one is to the villa in the Caribbeans.”
He tries the next key but again its not the right one.
“God why do all these keys look so much alike.”
After 5 more keys he is at his final key.
“Ok here we go.”
Right when Saint Peter is about to unlock the gate a loud horn blows.
“Oh, sorry Coner my shift is over.”
With big wings Saint Michael lands next to the gate.
Saint Peter gives Michael his ring of keys and tells him to let Coner in.
“Not sure which keys I tried already, they all look so much alike.” Peter tells Michael.
“No problemo, lets try this one first.”
And key after key doesnt seem to fit the lock.
Conor is keeping his patience, and so are the rest of all the hundred of people behind him.
We will leave him there, and go through all the clouds back down to earth.

In my head is a little world with little people living in it.
The doctors said they were the voices I hear in my head.
They have little houses surrounded by little trees.
Their little men get little suitcases from the little wives before they
kiss their little wive on her little cheek and drive their little cars to their little jobs.
I could hear them sneeze when i did.
When I yawn they would do too, when I would cry they would too.
Their tears filled up the world and they all drowned.

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David flips to the next page, only reading the headlines.

Milly is up in her room trying to find herself a job after school.
Her mom told her she could search or post an advert in the local newspaper.
She doesn’t really know what to do with the money she’ll earn working.
But her first thoughts are buying things like make up, clothes or magazines.
Maybe she could save up long enough and go to Europe.
She would need to go and get some travel brochures she thought to herself.
A mobile phone would be nice too, but for now she’ll just go and focus on the advert she is making.

After a lot of hours brainstorming she has set her mind on the following.

“Do you need someone to sit on your children?
For a experienced babysitter
Please Call Milly.”

This will be in the local newspaper soon, Milly can already smell the money.
She spends the rest of the day dreaming about what she will do with all the cash.