In the Post Office, waiting in the queue, laden with parcels.
One of the clerks: “It’s Alice!”
Me, laughing: “Once more with joy!”
(We have a long-running joke that they look busy when I come in with tons of orders).
A little voice pipes up.
I look around.
The voice again.
A hand tugs my dress.
I look down.
Small, adorable Chinese girl as high as my knee, looking up at me:
“My name’s Joy!”