bleary-eyed, claggy-mouthed, stumbling through the local mall to get the weekend paper when — good lord! i was jolted awake by the wanton display of cream-filled lamington sponges in the glass case at michel’s patisserie. eight-inch rounds of sponge cake and chocolate and dessicated coconut, sandwiched around what seemed like a litre of fresh whipped cream. there was no reason why this could not be part of a healthy saturday breakfast.

and what’s this, just beyond the wall of cake? my boss from an era past, toby, and his luminescent child, alice. we were all always dazzled by the girl’s beyond pale skin, and her sparkly eyes, and her mermaid hair, all goldiblonde tendrils halfway down her back. this morning she was dressed up as a fairy, waiting for a plastic ornament not unlike herself to be placed on a cake. “i go to big school now,” she said.

toby’s got a new book out. it’s pink!