At the supermarket, I escaped my gossipy neighbour.

I eluded yet another beer and tapa offer.

I evaded a black plastic trash bag that was falling from the fifth floor of a building, and a flowerpot that was casually landing down from the seventh.

I eschewed answering the phone.

I refused to dictate a recipe to a friend.

I weaselled out of paying for the bus ticket.

I ducked so that the football ball, that was flying straight towards my head, did not manage to hit the target.

I said no to the afternoon nap.

I shunned kissing everyone at the party twice and by doing so, I probably dodged yet another flu virus attack.

I avoid the quiet men, white shoes, false smiles, crocodile tears, yellow gold and pink press.

I avoid half-truths and half-lies.

I avoid brown-coloured clothes.

The only thing I never seem to be able to avoid is the peach juice, that always invades my white shirt sleeves whenever I bite into this delicious fruit.

***
A/N: Theme song: "Vorsa: Avoiding."