PostCards Never Written
Janita Van de Velde
While my back was turned, the monkey came flying down from the roof and scrambled up my legs, sinking its teeth into the crotch of my low-hanging shorts. I started jumping up and down like an ape, screaming at the top of my lungs as I tried to dislodge this thing from my shorts. In a moment of panic, Juan turned the hose on the monkey, blasting both the creature and I into the neighbouring shrubs. The monkey, outraged by the torrent of water, released its grip and ran off in disgust into a nearby bush. Juan raced over to his toolbox and pulled out a bottle of iodine (bottled circa 1956), which Johnny applied to the scratches on my legs. Now that my legs are stained with lovely orange and amber streaks, letís just hope that iodine wards off all pending strains of the Ebola virus.
All images and text copyright Janita Van de Velde ©2007