Today, I sat under a tree in the park to eat my lunch. 

I was busy reading my newspaper when an old man with a white beard walked up to me.  Slightly hunched, he was pushing a granny’s shopping trolley and wearing a purple raincoat. 

“Excuse me,” he said gently.  “You seem to have a bit of tree on your head.”

Upon which, he reached out and plucked a leaf from my hair.

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