London Eye and Green Mice
There is a large Ferris wheel called the London Eye along the Thames River which flows through London, UK. As I walked around the Westminster Bridge while avoiding tourists, I saw it and suddenly remembered her. I recalled either her first name or her last name was London.
Back then, when she and I met in the beginning, she had two beautiful eyes. She was an ordinary but likable lady who liked apples and cereal. One day, she explained the reason why she liked apples and cereal. She told me at the local pub, "Apples are pitiful and cereal is cruel. That's why I just want to love them."
I became distracted by a green mouse running around our counter while she was saying that. It was not that I had not heard her at all. That being said, I felt like there was an urban legend or a folklore passed down from a long time ago in London. I tried searching the memory archives in my head.
"Hide the middle finger with one hand if you see green mice in London."
It was only that sentence that I could remember at last, so I could not remember at all why I needed to do that nor what would happen if I didn't do that. There were men, women, and couples who held pints nearby and chatted with each other, but I could hardly question them about it so abruptly. It was obvious after my simulation. "Hi, how's it going? By the way, do you know about green mice?" I could imagine their eyes widen and say "What?"
Miss London talked about what the meaning of apples and cereal was, endlessly. Relationships with our world, how we have been in contact with them all over the world, and how serious blasphemy was. I think so. Because I was already keen on hiding the middle finger at that time.
As anyone understands, it is easy to erect the middle finger, but it is quite difficult to hide it. Even though you hide your middle finger to push it with your thumb and little finger, you cannot see the middle finger and it seems to be hidden. At most, it is enough to hide the nail of the middle finger. If you try to bring your ring finger and index finger above the base of your finger, most people would need to fold them or dislocate them.
By chance, I felt as if the words she spoke to me stopped. I watched her to determine if the timing of feedback was suitable. Then she was immersing her middle finger in a pint. It was a thin, long and beautiful finger. She was no longer there. Who was bloviating to me with the sighs till then. There was a silent lady who gazed at the pint with a melancholic look and took her middle finger like a stirring spoon and slowly stirred the liquor.
Suddenly she pulled up her middle finger stirring the pint without sound, without hesitation, and stabbed her right eye with incredible and furious momentum.
She said like she got exhausted. "Green mice... but not to worry, my middle finger is already hidden."
I remember I was opening my eyes wide and said "What?"
It was obvious that I was surprised. Even the base of her middle finger was buried in the place where her beautiful eye had been, and her blood overflowed.
However, the Londoners who were around did not pay her any mind. They just glanced at her, or asked as though they confirmed, "Whappen?", "ah, green mice?" Only, as soon as they shook their necks, they got back to chatting as though it was the usual London way.
That was not the only matter. The green mouse was still running around on the counter.
While she was thrusting her middle finger at her right eye and tried to still the bleeding with the napkin she used for the coaster that was not useful at all, there was a man next to her, who was showing us his back and coming on to a girl. Then, while I was following the green mouse with my eyes, it ran through her front from in front of me, and then passed through the elbow of the man next to me, that was on the counter. So I was convinced that she and I were the only ones who saw the mouse that time then.
It would have been that I stood up from the stool because I was surprised at the same time as I was convinced. She turned to face me and said quickly "You. Maybe you can see it? You better hide your middle finger then! And leave me alone for a while. Thank you very much!"
Somehow, I felt like being included in some anger, but it is supposed to be worldly common sense that the heart of lady would change soon. I got out of my seat while being impatient and full of incomprehensible fear. When I left that counter pub, I kept thrusting not only my middle finger but in fact both my hands deep into my pockets. Just as I am looking at London Eye from the bridge across the Thames.