Chapter Two
The story so far . . . Feeling full of existential angst, thinking there must be more to life than this, Giraffe had run away to join the Circus. That hadn't gone too well.
The Ringmaster had asked him what circus skills he had.
Can you juggle?
No.
Can you walk the tightrope?
No.
Do you look good in a glittery costume?
Er, no.
Can you tame lions?
I don't think that would work.
Can you drive a Clown Car?
No
Can you ride a horse bareback?
No
Can you ride an elephant?
Nope
So Giraffe hadn't joined the Circus. Instead he hung around with some other Circus rejects, Zebra One and Zebra Two, Moko Jembie the Crow, a Vulture named Moz and some dinosaurs.
"What a world of misery this surely is," said Zebra One, several times a day.
"Oh, I know," replied Zebra Two.
"All my life I've been bent out of shape," complained Moko Jembie, the Crow, at regular intervals.
"I could make a meal of that wonderful despair I feel," said a Vulture named Moz.
"Are they right, Baby Dinosaur?" asked Giraffe. "Is life really rubbish?"
"No" replied Baby Dinosaur. "You get to choose. You can choose to complain all the time or you can enjoy every sandwich."
"Hey, Moko Jembie! Hey, Moz!" shouted Giraffe. "Does being unhappy make you happy?"
"Uh," said Moko Jembie, "I guess."
"Hmmmm," said Giraffe. "I choose, I choose . . . life, sunrise to start the day, sunset to end it, sunshine to warm the days, clouds and breeze and rain to cool them, forests and fields, wild and wide open spaces to run in, trees to shelter under, leaves to eat, sandwiches to enjoy, streams to drink from, rivers to stand tall by, mountains to look up to, grass to look down on, airplanes to be amazed by, silence to treasure, bird song to listen to, my own song to sing, spring and summer, autumn and winter, day and night, dawn and twilight. It's a gift."
"You're crazy" roared one of the other dinosaurs. "Get out of here."
"I choose . . . to go" said Giraffe and packed his bag and left. Giraffe was on the road again.
to be continued
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