Ding Dong.
The doorbell to my little penthouse on the rooftop of the apartment house in 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the shore and seaside is ringing.
As I open the door there stands … a llama. My llama. The animal. The one I am refusing to call KussKuss because its name sounds like the Klingon version for KissKiss which the llama would take as an order by understanding it as KissMe …
Home at last, dude, the llama says. I hope the hammock in the livingroom isn't occupied.
The animal is hopping past me on all fours along the hallway to the living room door.
What's for dinner, old chap?
Back to business, I think and close the door.
Today is Friday, the 26th of July 2019.
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