Lemon

I threw a lemon at an impertinent bitch the other day. I picked the beaming yellow thing off a roadside tree, fresh lemony aroma bringing joy to my nose. Moments later I'm shocked by Natasha nudging my heels. 'Go Back', I uttered angrily several times, a stern hand thrust towards the house. She rolls onto her back, exposes belly and dog nipples, and spreads a smarmy smirk across her little dog face. Further enraged and ineffective hand thrusting and utterances are ignored totally. I must use the lemon, throwing it emphatically, half at her, and half in the direction of home, 'Go Back' I shout simultaneously - it seems to work.

Later that day I walked to the beach. Two ladies were walking a raggedy white dog, one of them was wearing a large rimmed purple hat, the other wore all black and had a strange gait. The sea was noisily continuing her exciting and impossible task of obliterating the island of Cyprus. I wondered how many people, if any, had walked the entire length of the coastline? I excitedly contemplate the possibility of doing so myself, anyone wish to join me?

'Cyprus is like a box of chocolates' as Forest Gump would say if he lived here. Indeed many a sumptuous chocolate I've already tasted. A few days ago I put a new one in my mouth, Tinder, though I'm not sure yet of it's taste. So far I've matched with 10 attractive men and 0 women, is the universe trying to tell me something? So much to discover on this most lovely of islands, not least explorations in sexuality.