Last night as we walked through the park in front of the zoo, humom got upset as usual at the tourists who were photographing each other swinging on the air roots of the beautiful banyan tree, our good friend and spreader of shade. The hupeople are hard for me to understand. They seem to be deaf to the tree; they do not smell its distress; they laugh at it; they carve sharp wounds into its hide -- and yet they take pictures of it like a sunset or a Mallie.
Well, this morning we went out and that same huge branch of the tree was lying on the ground, with a big splintery end like a fresh bone fracture. Some people sitting on the bench came over to talk to me for comfort and told me all about it. They were sitting under the tree and there was a sound like whirring pigeon wings. I enjoy this, but they did not, and the tree limb fell to the ground beside them. They were very shaky and it took some Mallie therapy to make them feel better. I liked the soft warm lady with the tattoos and piercings, she smelled very good, and the young men were nice about talking to humom who was very angry indeed.
Later we walked again. The huge limb was gone, just the pale splintery fracture still exposed where it used to be. And next to it, giggling tourists swinging from other air roots. Humom walked very fast.
--- Missy out
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