Longer Arms …

Longer boats are coming to win us

They're coming to win us, they're coming to win us

Longer boats are coming to win us

Hold on to the shore, they'll be taking the key from the door.

Some Cat is singing in my head as I am striding down the hallway of my penthouse above the 15th storey of the apartment building on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford the friendly town by the shore and seaside.

The elevator doors are open. Isn't the elevator still broken, I wonder.

As I approach the elevator shaft I can hear and see somebody fumble with the elevator steel ropes somewhere in the deep.

I crawl near the edge trying to see something in the dark.

'Is someone down there?' I shout.

'Of course there is somebody down here. What a stupid question!'

It's the llama. Who else can it be?

'What are you dowing down there, animal?' I ask.

'I am trying to paint the ceiling, can't you see, you silly hedgepig?'

'Hog', I correct the animal.

'WHAAAT?'

'The correct word is hedgehog not hedgepig.'

'Hog, pig, that's all the same', the animal says. 'Help me out of here you, you bungeling porcupine!'

'I cannot see you', I say, 'therefor I cannot reach you. And stop calling me animal names, animal.'

'Longer arms!' the llama shouts out. 'We need longer arms.'

'OK', I say. 'I'll try calling the janitor.'

'Concierge', the llama says, 'Call Mario or Luigi our concierge not our janitor. He likes that.'

Whatever, I think.

'But let me read your fortune cookie for today first. The fortune cookie says,

We need longer arms.'

'BROMFORD !!!'

I am bursting out laughing.

'No, to be honest, the fortune cookie says,

Has the time come yet?'

Today is Tuesday, the 7th of January 2020.