»«

 

»Seriously, Shakespeare?«

The llama is eating the plastic fruits for decoration. Again.

»First of all«, the animal complains, »I prefer the phrase artificial fruits as in artificial intelligence and secondly… I AM NOT EATING PLASTICS.«

»No, you are eating shaken pears or something like that.«

Why is winter making me so tired? I can hardly keep my eyes open.

»You, human«, the animal continues nagging me, »quoted Shakespeare in last year's last post. And I am wondering why you did this, dude. And is 'nagging you' even a correct phrase?«

»Three things, animal…«

I am stretching and yawning on the couch.

»Why not? That's my answer to your quoting Shakespeare question.«

I am holding up my index finger, followed by the middle finger, both forming a victory or peace symbol.

»And are you using the word phrase here correctly? And third thing…«

Stretching out the ring finger together with index and middle while keeping thumb and pinky down is a lot harder than it seems.

»Nagg nagg nagg nagg.«

I am imitating one of those tiny, little gnawling animals by pushing my incisors teeths over my lower lip and making that noise.

»We call them rodents, you terrible beaver-boy.«

The llama is leaving the living-room, eating another plastic banana.

»I AM NOT«, echoes through the penthouse above the fifteenth floor of the apartment building on 666, Whitaker Lane, in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside.

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Today is Sunday, the 14th of January 2024.

Artificial Fruits