A thousand lollies

John tells me he’s writing a story about how when he was a kid he bought a thousand lollies from the Oriental Markets and sold them.
That sounds very interesting, I tell him.
John’s main concern is that a thousand lollies aren’t enough for a whole book.
He’s only got two paragraphs so far.
So, John thinks he’ll write about candyfloss too.
He explains that adults just want to be children and we’re all at a fair, having to control ourselves from burying our faces in the floss and rubbing it in each other’s hair.
I tell him that floss will definitely give him a few extra pages.
John says he just wants to be a child, but he’s old and he can’t so the best he can do is eat floss and remember.
You’re not old, I tell him.
You’re only 28.
How old are you?
23.
You’re quite a good-looking 23-year-old.
I laugh dismissively like women do when we’re actually thrilled.
These crazy people I meet.
I’m insanely blessed.
God, maybe he’s thinking the same thing about me.