Fishy Felonies

Cola flavoured lollipops are for the weak

The railing on the balcony is icy cold and refreshing when pressed against my forehead. It's nice a combination when you're squinting at the city lights all around you and you can't tell whether you're awake or not.

Sirens and the sounds of people revelling still monopolise the soundtrack of the city (I can see the ant like creatures scuttle around piss drunk in the streets below). I roll my head to the side as a gust of wind sweeps by and shut my eyes to refocus.

I really can't tell whether I'm awake or not. It's like this every morning; I wake up, or dream I wake up, at 4:12 and find my way out to the balcony.

The view has changed now that I've moved my head. The city lights are still blazing through the darkness but they're outlining a figure now. Its limbs are moving fluidly through space and causing several lights to blink as it passes through them. When my brain finally manages to decipher the image, it turns out to be girl, with mushroom shaped hair, decked out in a Victorian dress. I just watch without questioning it . It's twelve minutes past four, I think, and no one's thoughts aren't very rational around this time - ask any police officer working the night shift.

Liquid trickles down the side of my face and that's when I realise the rails must be covered in dew. This revelation happens then I always get up and crawl back into my apartment to sleep away the few hours I have left before I definitely need to be awake and functioning.

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I love Saturday mornings. I always wake up extra early to watch those kiddy cartoons with frozen yoghurt from the dodgy 24/7 kmart downstairs. I mean, the frozen yoghurts, or froyo, are half price before 11am, and so are totally worthy of early morning excursions. You can read these sentences over and over again because with the way this Saturday morning is planned out, my attitude is probably going to turn pretty anal at best, even after a healthy dose of Tom and Jerry .

The door bell rang just as the small crater my spoon created in the froyo reached the bottom of the bowl. Screw this, I don't even get to finish my froyo. I put the bowl in the fridge and dumped the spoon in sink. Even though I had been preparing myself for the arrival of Constantine, it still left a considerably nasty after taste in my mouth that even the fruitiest of yoghurts couldn't combat.

I answered the door, stepping outside my apartment and shutting the door behind me before Constantine could peek inside. I really like aloe vera and I don't need him asking some long winded question about why I've chosen to deck the corridor with pots it.

"What's - "

"Why don't we get going?" I asked, cutting him off.

"But - " He still had that confused face he always had when there was a 'burning' issue on his mind.

"I just really like aloe vera, okay!?"

"Uh, sure?" Constantine looked very worried. Maybe he didn't actually get to look inside my apartment. "It's just the natural field history museum. You ate breakfast, right?"

"Yeah, froyo."

"I love froyo," exclaimed Constantine. His eyes went soft and gooey, "especially toffee flavoured froyo - "

"Oh gee whizz, I would have never guessed!" I said with mock interest. "Of course you love toffee flavoured froyo, you toffee nut." Your blood is probably 50% toffee.

"My cousin's godmother owns a froyo factory - "

"Cool story bro."

Constantine's inability to understand this simple phrase would come to be known as one of my regrets that Saturday morning, and the reason why I now know the ins and outs of manufacturing frozen yoghurt 'so fresh and tasty, you'd swear it came from the udders of a cryogenic cow'. Sweet mother of mushy prawn crackers.