If you were out and about in the eastern side of Sydney yesterday afternoon, you may have witnessed a plane writing a personal message in the sky;

“Maya I’m sorry” it said, albeit briefly (presumably the regret lasted longer).

We spotted it while playing touch rugby on Shelley Beach and play was stopped while we started a book on what the final message might be as more letters were added

Maya
Mayans, where did you hide the gold?

Maya I
Maya I’ve lost my keys and phone, let me in?

Maya I’m
(ah, we can deal with this now!)
Maya I’m HIV+?
Maya I’m going to be 10 mins late?

Maya I’m s
Maya I’m sleeping with your sister?

Maya I’m so
Maya I’m so lucky?
Maya I’m soul and you are soul? (say it aloud)

Maya I’m sor
(running out of options now)
Maya I’m sore?

Maya I’m sorr
(really losing alternatives now)
Maya I’m sorrel-intolerant?

And then the final “y” was added and the touch rugby continued.

I hope the crime was worth the apology; it would be inexcusable if the apologiser had only done something lame like denying climate change or forgetting to ask for decaf when buying her a flat white. I’m thinking a drug-fuelled night with both Minogue sisters would be getting close to the appropriate level.