* Flavoured in the way a lime milkshake is flavoured like a lime—aaah, it's not.
We searched Google Maps street-view today (no, not to see if there was a picture of me at the fish and chip shop) for places from our childhood. A house I lived in when I was about five or six is still there. It looks almost the same, except for new plants and maybe new tiles on the roof. It was the one where our dog got out of two sets of gates and bit someone. We were told, when they took him to the vet for the unfortunate result of something like that, that a man with a big farm had taken him away where he wouldn't hurt anyone and so he didn't have to be put down after all. I am sure that was to save our broken hearts, but when we found out years later that it was all a furphy we cried as hard as we would have done at the time. Better memories, or other memories rather, include a swan living on our pool for a while, walking home from school with diarroeah, not going to a party because I got chicken pox, and watching the Concorde go over and 'pop' from the garden. Isn't it funny what we remember?
Who wore it better?