Round things

The whole world is falling apart and here I am admiring the peak of a mount. It's March and the peak's still white. That is my motto: falling apart, falling apart. Is it possible to catch it? Like a mulberry bush dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush; yes, it's a universal refrain. And I find myself humming it, without knowing why. Living your forties isn't so tragic, after all. There are worse things. For example, well everyone knows the worse things. Sometimes it snows when it should be springtime.

Anita came into the world in a small African country which had never appeared on the maps. I met her during a safari trip across the continent. Okay. I lied. I had managed to scrape together enough money for a plane ticket to the last undiscovered land under African skies. As of now, it still has no name, but many people know it exists. Life there is carried out in the same way as in any other part of the world. And for inexplicable reasons the inhabitants are familiar with the mulberry bush refrain.