Tribe Of The Bobble Hat
Little Granddaughter stomps to each park shelter post, hits every one in turn with two sticks, previously collected from under the giant fir trees.
'Hahahaha! Dongdongdong!' She chants. 'Doggle, woff woff woff shtay.' A group of cold teenagers lean into the wind, listening for such sounds, out on a music project. They are barred from sharing any shelter by the pink and fiercely bobble-hatted priestess. She stands at the head of the snaking path, shouts 'No!' They shall not pass, but edge on, gloveless and shivering. Dog lies on the grass, exhausted from her chain of commands.