Sunday

The weather is dreary and my monkeys not partial to the rain so he is sitting longinly gazing at the fish in next doors pond.

Nothing will inspire him whilst he's in this mood... Sulking !!

So no doubt he'll spend the next few hours gazing out at the pools of water gathering outside, each new drop creating ripples for him to get lost in. The sky darkening the room around him with it's deep greys, angry purples and flashes of blue orange.

He sits and he gazes and he dreams , he is contented.

Friday

My friends journey is coming to it's first end, so I thought I would begin with something she's finishing ...
My monkey sits, his fingernails just a bit long, each finger ended in a tiny white halo. They drummed on the edge of the desk. He should be tidying the office. He should always be tidying the office, as by nature he is not the most organised of species. He is very good at rooting through material, sourcing and close work. He is not so good at labeling, filing or dusting. Dusting is especially mundane to this creature, occasionally if the mood takes him he might casually swoop a tail over the bookends or run it softly by the computer screen, but take away the casual aspect of the task and my monkey is filled with nightmares of marigolds and pink feathers. Unbelievably unattractive on a monkey.
So he merely sits, drumming. To no particular tune or rhythm just mindless tap tappetty tap. Beady eyes moving around the room desperately trying to avoid focusing on the out of place parts he should be tidying. When a thought crosses his mind. He had a thought about writing a novel; there was a welling in his soul, but he couldn't find a way to have it pour through his fingers.
He should be tidying the office..., he isn't he is sitting at his computer again procrastinating.