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EXPLORING

The giraffe couldn’t sleep, that night in the winter forest, when the moon was shining through the trees.
“A beautiful night”, said the giraffe to no one in particular, “to do some exploring.”
She strolled off and saw the river hog grubbing about in the moss, the vole tossing and turning in his den and over the water she heard the dragonfly whimper in her sleep, or perhaps it was because she could not sleep. Then the bat flew right past her head.
“Sorry,” mumbled the bat, “I did not hear you were that big.”
When she came in the vicinity of the house of the monkey, the giraffe heard strange noises. She walked over but suddenly slowed down her pace. In front of the tree where his house was, the monkey was dancing. Or wasn’t it the monkey? It hopped around and played with an apple and another, shiny, thing. But the monkey looked so weird. Skin and bone, had the giraffe once heard it said, and in this case, even with hardly any skin left.
“Hello monkey”, said the giraffe anyway.
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