Rory and I encountered these words today on our walk in Central Park:
It was repeated over and over again along our route, so we simply had to follow and answer the now burning question:
What is Brooke’s world?
Turned out to be some benches. And leftover balloons. We deduced that Brooke had a birthday party in the park.
And we missed it.
What is this world — Brooke’s world — coming to?!