Sunday, late afternoon. Mike is sitting on the bench at the far end of the long lawn, back to the street, newspaper in hand. K approaches, bearing two cups of Earl Grey. Mike looks up.
M: The tip of your nose is all shiny and orange.
K: Oh, I think I know how that happened. Shit!
M: What did you do?
K: This is so embarrassing…
M: Come on, tell me.
K: I was, er, sniffing the day lilies. You know, while I was dead-heading them. I must have stuck my nose in a bit too far.
M: Eurgh, lily crap!
K: Awful stuff. Has it gone yet?
M: No, you need to give it more of a wipe. Try wetting your finger. Almost. Yep, all gone.
K: Oh dear, that’s just so…
M: Don’t worry. It’s a commonly observed condition.
K: What’s that, then?
M: Ponce-nez.
K: Hahahahaha!
M: Hahahahaha!
K: That would make a good little vignette on your blog. Are you going to write it up?
M: I’ll think about it.
K: Ponce-nez! Hahahahaha!
troubled diva 