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The Life That Never Was

Here’s the story of a parallel me, misplaced teenagerhood, and uneaten chocolates.

They say life is like a box of chocolates – which is stupid because chocolates melt and I haven’t melted yet. I’m not a witch. That I’m aware of. It’s also a misquote. It’s actually, life was like a box of chocolates, which indicates that Forrest Gump has now come up with some kind of serum to stop the melting process. Of course, perhaps Einstein’s, ‘life is like riding a bicycle’ is more apropos. For most, it’s a bit difficult at first but you get the hang of it in the end. For me, it resulted in a catastrophic failure of the training wheels at considerable speed, a demount of SPECTACULAR proportions, a forward roll on hard concrete – and finished with an oh so delicious flourish – breaking through a wooden fence like a rock ‘n’ roll God. A speedy investigation found that father was to blame. You know what men are like with missing screws. Of course, I never ventured back onto the bike and, today, at 29, I still can’t ride one. So that’s what Gump should’ve said. Life was like trying to ride a bike. I simply gave up and instead spent my time stuffing my face full of those chocolates. I mean, why was he just sitting there? Eat the damn things, you muppet. I’m like that with movies. “Come on, why is it so important how pretty you are! It’s not the 1940s! No-one ever asked her what she wanted! Get out of there and go and live the life you want to live, Cinderella…”

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