Frank: Oh I’m so glad; I’ve been looking for you all morning; my eye-sight, something’s up with it.
Frank: Oh don’t worry don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ve just been ever so slightly altered.
Mildred: Altered? Look at you! Oh Frank decapitation isn’t known for enhancing one’s visual capabilities you know.
Once upon a time there was an old man. An old man who one morning opened his front door and inhaled deeply. Coffee? He inhaled again shaking his head. Could there really be coffee? It had been banned for so long, who had got their hands on coffee? He had to find it. He buttoned up his shirt and pulled his drooping trousers up over his waist. Then sniffing the air like that dog he had watched following the scent of the butchers van he roamed the streets following the scent of coffee.
There was a girl who could never remember her name.
Sometimes she’d think, “I’ve remembered!” And then just as she grasped it, like a déjà vu or dream, it fluttered away, leaving her with a vague sensation she’d rather not feel at all.
People would come up to her and say “Hello! What’s your name?” And she would go blank.
What was her name?