The girls and I went to a shopping centre today. Being school holidays, there was a song and dance act that was doing a lame remake of Little Red Riding Hood.
The performers were mainly kids, but they had that desperate air of preciousness that is an unstable blend of precociousness and the breathless anticipation of being discovered.
Their act was tired. They mis-pronounced the name of our city. They went through the motions. Then, they seemed surprised that the crowd wasn't enthusiastic.
Don't let the door hit you on the way out.
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