What a contrast with that miserable lightless hole in which Ive spent my last hundred strips. (All right, perhaps not that many. You spend time in Snailopolis and see how quickly the time passes.) The sun pleasingly warms my fur, while the fresh breeze brings a mélange of scents, all eager as a litter of kittens to attract my attention.
Im spoilt for choice as to what to do first! Should I roll about in the grass? Should I nap? (Always a strong contender.) Should I follow one of the scents to its source and see if it is prey and whether it will play with me for a little while?
At the moment, I do none of these things. I am content to wander in any particular direction that is away from "Avenir." For no particular reason.
I am calm, and my whiskers do not twitch with alarm, nor do my ears swivel uncertainly in all directions.
After all, I have no doubt that mountains, grass, sun, smells - the whole world, in fact - often just appear from nothing. Seems reasonable. Why should I doubt that? I have the evidence of my senses that tell me they do, in fact, do just that.
I am also certain that when friends – well, acquaintances, really – suddenly change their appearance and mannerisms completely, that it bodes no ill whatsoever.
I am calm, and not worried about anything at all.
I wonder how I call home the shark?