Alpha Loren
Wrapped in a piece of tissue paper was a small miniature Eiffel tower statue.
I cocked my head and trailed my eyes from it to him. He waited patiently, anticipation on his face.
“... Do you like it?”
“It’s not that I’m not grateful, but last time I checked, Aruba isn’t in Paris,” I said, “Any why is it green?”
“Look, the man running the kiosk didn’t speak English. I wanted to get you the London snow globe that matched the Berlin one from India, but he didn’t understand so I ended up with that,” he explained, “And green was the only colour left.”