naima

“Yes, you,” I shot back, nodding to his overflowing bag of supplies that he had emptied onto the table the minute we sat down for lunch. I swallowed every morsel of meat and veg in my lunchbox before continuing. “What are you planning to do with all of those? Make water balloons? Because you’re not going to use them all. It’s physiologically impossible.”
“Physiological?” he scoffed. “You need to get your head out of those books, lad,” or at least that’s what I thought he said. It was kind of hard to work out what he was saying with half a dozen lollipops hanging out of his mouth.”
― Chloe Walsh