My shoes were black. The dress code was a white T-shirt, white shorts or tracksuit and sports shoe or P.T shoes, preferably in white. The only pair of sports shoes I own is majorly black and this was bugging me since day one. Of course, the instructions also asked for neatly trimmed hair and formal attire for screening day and yet people in jeans and leather jackets, with handlebar moustaches were screened in. So maybe dress codes don’t matter too much? Tell that to the voices in my head.
When the remains of a falling star catch my eye,
When I wake up one morning needing no more sleep,
When the soup is delivered just goldilocks-fine,
When my popcorn gets its own empty seat,
When the deadlines too hit the snooze button,
When heavy rains pause my minute hand.
It is only after we completely run out of things to say when the truth comes out.