They tried to run him down.
It wasn’t deliberate; they just didn’t
bother to look as they reversed.
He was looking at the sardine graffiti covering
the whole side of a tower block; the silver paint catching the morning sun and
seeming to glisten as if freshly landed from a salty sea.
It was Portugal.
Narrow streets curved like snakes down the
hillsides, shops spilling their wares around his feet.
A restaurant where people queued and a statue
in plastic of a smiling cricketer.
None of it made sense.
Let’s hope the Quiz of the year does!
8) Complete the following sentence.
“It’s no use squeezing your buttocks when………”
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