Somewhere in Sweden earlier today, Stockholm I think, a truck ploughed through crowds of shoppers before crashing into a department store. They say it was another terrorist attack and that several people have since died. Around the same time, I was sniffing my fingers imagining what she looked like with no clothes on, and what I saw made my tongue tingle like it did back when I was a kid after eating a handful of apple sours. Shortly after this, but far, far away, some punk was dragged into an alley behind a launderette and beaten by those wielding wooden bats. He was beaten so severely in fact, that when he put his hands up to stop the blows they turned into jelly. Can you imagine all those broken bones of his? Can you imagine them flailing around all over the place while he pleaded with them to stop? So yeah, I slid my fingers down my trousers and touched my sweaty junk, and when I brought them out to sniff, the image of her girl-next-door smile soaked up all other visions until it was only her smile I could see. It was like that of the Cheshire Cat. It was hypnotic, and as I closed my eyes, it stretched across the horizon leaving me grinning like a loon. They say there’s a manhunt on for those involved in the terror attack. It’s all over the internet, as is America bombing Syria, as well as a husband who travelled to his wife’s place of work only to cut her throat because of her supposed extramarital activity. Was that in Japan? I can’t say I remember. So that smile- if I close my eyes and take in a deep breath- it makes the days fade and the stars in the sky shimmer through obsolete clouds. It lifts me off my feet while those below run this way and that not knowing where to turn next as calamity after calamity brings them to their knees. Thank god for that smile. Otherwise, I’d be just like them.