("PICKING THE RIGHT ONE" is a nostril-sized tale of a man chatting up a bus-driver.
To accompany today's story I've put up a photo of a friend who designs toys for children. I was thinking of writing a story about how he makes molds of possible toys with nose candy that he digs up but decided against it. Too obvious.
There is however a world of possibilities in a nostril and so I hope the inner nose-picker inside you enjoys today's tale...)
PICKING THE RIGHT ONE
"You see before our provincial elections there's this guy who'll predict the outcome by picking his right or left nostril. He picked the right one which represents the political right," he says at peak volume at the front of the bus. He's seated on what the driver's term "groupie row".
"Oh is that right ?" the driver replies like he's turning the same corner for the millionth time.
"Yeah and sure enough Campbell got back into power. How do you explain that ?" he shouts in wonder and awe.
In a tiny, quiet corner of the driver's mind, he's reminiscing over a childhood spent knee deep in nose goblins.
And as the bus turns the corner everyone's face is splashed with the colours of the sunset.