I fetch walking on the same lane of pedestrians.
My eyes spark in a worried tonic manner. I continue breathless to amble somehow limped.
Towards cars sending fumes onto plain Ozon, I, determined, pop on a scaled ladder. I wait there rubbing my crossed feet. Ashamed I put on the rest of exhibited hair on a topknot.
I scratch the top of the head, miserably brooding.
I show to light my phone