Neighbours
I was talking to Samina-next-door's husband; he's a small businessman; he owns one of those open-all-hours, Asian mini-marts, I think. He was telling me about the house he's building in Kashmir- and showed me pictures of it on his phone. And it's not a house, it's a palace- on a scale you'd need to be a multi-millionaire to build in Britain- four storeys high, with extensive grounds and gardens. He said if we ever wanted to go and stay there it'd cost us the price of the air ticket, no more- and all our meals would be laid on for free. I don't suppose we'll take him up on it, but what an offer!
That was a nasty metallic crunch at six o'clock in the morning. We went to the window and saw that a bright pink car had somehow managed to slam into the rubbish skip across the way. The rubbish skip was unharmed. A girl got out of the passenger seat and ran off down the road where another girl met her and hugged her. I'm afraid my good-neighbourly instincts are asleep at that hour and I watched it all quite dispassionately. Then I went back to bed.
That was a nasty metallic crunch at six o'clock in the morning. We went to the window and saw that a bright pink car had somehow managed to slam into the rubbish skip across the way. The rubbish skip was unharmed. A girl got out of the passenger seat and ran off down the road where another girl met her and hugged her. I'm afraid my good-neighbourly instincts are asleep at that hour and I watched it all quite dispassionately. Then I went back to bed.

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And as for the girl with the pink car... that's the trouble with letting 1960's vinyl dolls have their own transport...
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And who knows? Never say never.
:)
I suspect if you had seen that somebody was hurt in the crash, you'd be outside in a flash helping.
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I'd like to think you're right about helping, but at 6 in the morning I'm scarcely human. :)
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I'm certainly not. I'd be inclined to think I was dreaming.