Mulattoes

Before 17:00, at Tim Hortons café, I was enjoying an Iced Coffee with oat milk. At the café, sitting at the long table with a drawing of an ice hockey rink thereon, were three mulattoes and one Asian, all of varying stockiness and handsomeness. Homebound, I noticed the abundant horsetails in the alleyway. At home, I listen to Zouk music in French Creole on my tablet, as well as Gringo Pop from the 1970s to the 1990s. I watch, in Tagalog, Jezelle's Vlog about native Philippine life on Mount Tralala. The later afternoon had clearer skies, here on Lulu Island. It's the 14th of May of 2025.

It's the 17th of May of 2025. After 13:00, I walked to Tim Hortons café again, there to sip Earl Grey Tea with oat milk. I bought a box of 20 Honey Dip Timbits (donut holes) for family guests tomorrow. There was in the café the familiar Oriental-white hybrid couple, of which the man looked eerily like John Lennon the musician. A trio of familiar teenage mulattoes entered, one of which reminded me of my Jamaican friend, Graeme S., whose uncle was Phil Collins the musician. When I was in university, I and my friends would sometimes visit the West Vancouver house of Graeme's rich Uncle Victor, who was Jewish. Their grand house had a backyard Jacuzzi and a swimming pool, overlooking Burrard Inlet. Graeme's uncle and aunt were one of the first tourists to China when that country opened up in the 1980s. They brought back with them an ancient-looking stringed instrument. (Incidentally, my Auntie Mila visited China in the 1970s when it was still a forbidden country. Auntie was some kind of administrator for the Philippine Bayanihan dance troupe.)