After lunch, three of us were in a little strip of green outside our office. It’s ambitiously called a ‘garden’. If they plant one more tree with more than five branches, we’ll refer to it as ‘the forest’. It was a really pleasant afternoon. A strong breeze, bright but tender sunshine, some pink and yellow flowers in full bloom, clean, cobbled paths. It was a good setting for a luncheon walk. Whilst walking, though, my friends screamed and hopped aside. I looked around in alarm – thinking that maybe a cat had begun to sing. I don’t like cats. Not even if they can sing. Cats are annoying. I don’t like cats. I can’t understand why other people do. Now, I don’t much care for dogs either, but dogs are better. If they are around, you know they’re around. Cats, on the other hand, don’t let up. They make you believe that they’re not around, and then when you least expect it, when you’re settling down with a nice, spicy vegetable roll on a park bench, they start meowing. That startles you and you spill stuff on your white skirt and then, everyone in office laughs at you. And this happens even if they’re not singing.
In any case, my friends weren’t shocked by cats. They were shocked by a couple of skittish chameleons. They were the most fascinating creatures I’ve seen in a long while. The chameleons were alternately hopping on the grass and the pathway, so their backs were a bright green but their heads and chest areas were this pale, stone grey. Depending on where they were located, that portion of their body was getting brighter.
After a while, they scuttled away into some bushes and their tails immediately started turning brown. It was so magical! These creatures had a palette of colours their skins could turn into. And they had decided to come out and play in the sun.