Octopus Shoes

And I wonder where those whistles are coming from? Ah - there’s the source. But her mouth is closed. Oh, now I get it. She’s whistling out of her ears. Wants to draw attention to the statues of moustaches she’s selling. Those curly ones are kind of cute.

Almost there. I’ll walk beneath the Magnet Arch at the end of this block. Considering all of the underground shapes, the magnet is my favorite. And here we are, and right on time. The triangular hour, I think it’s called. Big building. Fifty-foot apples out front just like she said. And flower pots shaped like poodles (and maybe they once were?) on the second-floor windowsill. Let’s find the buzzer... and here it is, number five, rubber dog banana. La, la, la. And... here she comes.

"How you doing, honey, it’s me. You ready?" Hm. Changed, looks like. Could do without those pinwheels on her shoulders. And those little drawers coming out of her legs. Well, she looks okay, I guess. At least she’s still a woman.

"What’s that, honey? You like the shoes? Thanks, so do I. No, I’m no swimmer. Not for twenty years. Don’t even remember how. Hate it, actually. Although, come to think of it, these days: who knows?" And out we go, and arm in arm, beneath these marmoset tails, these bicycle wheels, these green feathers, green balloons.

END