Shiny plastic grass that's not really plastic.
I'm eating Cup Noodles for dinner and I'm thinking, in ten years I hope I'll be doing the same in boxers with my hot husband with the black wire-rimmed spectacles. Who I met at the supermarket when we reached for the same carton of Cup Noodles. At the zebra crossing a garbage truck halted to let me pass, and I had a snapshot of it careening into me, Death by a Garbage Truck. Everyday I despair over the 3 weeks lost, the next about to do the same, and then I'd be writing my future in blue.