Delivery mix-up
All my life I have thought I was a mix-up in the delivery room. Not in the hospital, in the pick and pack area.
I’m sure I was meant to be an animal of some sort because I find humans so very difficult to fathom. Even communicating with them (which is supposed to be my main occupation) gets very tricky. Animals are fabulously easy. It’s all done in the mind or by a raised ear, a look or a lifted paw.
The older I get and the more my brain damage deteriorates, the more this comes home to me. I can have meaningful exchanges with most non- verbal creatures but find human speech impossible. Something that should come out as two words lasts half an hour. Insults are chucked about for no reason. Liberties are taken at the drop of a hat without permission…
I am going outside to chat with my lizards. They at least make sense to me.
“Nice log – yes, innit? Is your log like this?”
“No.”
“Pity. Wanna share my log for a bit?”
After that, when it is getting dark I’ll go out to the barn and chat to my mates the bats.


Ailsa Abraham
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