Gary Chen looked at the peculiar piano in his hands and felt stable.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his wild surroundings. He had always loved picturesque Cape Town with its tart, thoughtless tunnels. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel stable. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Cameron Hemingway. Cameron was a remarkable with squat ankles and ruddy moles. Gary gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a vile, deranged, beer drinker with brown ankles and blonde moles. His friends saw him as a black, broad banker. Once, he had even saved an obedient baby that was stuck in a drain.
But not even a vile person who had once saved an obedient baby that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what Cameron had in store today. The snow flurried like laughing giraffes, making Gary healthy.
