Orange hair. Offbeat attire.

Standing side by side, curious eyes would inadvertently dart up and down, from my bare legs to Menna’s hair. Up down. Up down. Up down.

Menna and I agree on very little. She loves selfies, I love seclusion. She loves pineapple on pizza. I love pineapple far from pizza. She insists on dinner before eight. I insist on after eights for dinner.

Continue reading “Orange hair. Offbeat attire.”