Exclusively Arboreal

When I was in college I had an English professor (the kind that teaches English not a prof. from England) that would start off each class by having us write whatever into a "journal" and then read from it, at random. One day he pointed at me and asked me to read what I wrote. So I did.

This is what I wrote:

Today the monkeys were submissive and clingy. They let me groom them with my undeft fingers without complaint. They insisted on sitting at either side of my waist and grasped at my neck with a pressure that nearly took me down. They both cooed at me in soft "meet" and eventually fell asleep as I waltzed around the room, dizzyingly, slowly, in time to the music. I undid their sweet little paws, with the fur on the top, and placed them into their cupboard, where they shivered and huddled and napped.

Alright, that's not really what I wrote. I wrote about planting strawberries and my happiness that spring was in the air. But that was not as interesting as my monkeys. How are your monkeys and where have you hidden them?