I carry the icecreams over to where Josh and Mika are sitting at the picnic table outside. They’re talking excitedly about watching the mother giraffe wash the baby giraffe and are poking out their tongues in imitation. I smile at their antics as I join them.
I notice a sudden blur of movement out of the corner of my eye and turn to see a chimpanzee running towards our table. He stops, picks up a ullatti from our icecream and tentatively brings it to his mouth testing its usefulness. The boys and I stare in both fear and amazement as the chimp discards the ullatti and continues on its way closely followed by a pair of alarmed zookeepers.
For 100 consecutive days I will write and post a short story (about 100 words) incorporating a randomly selected word from Afterliff: A new dictionary of things there should be words for.
ullatti pl. n.
The tiny wooden spades that come with individual tubs of ice cream.
Forgettable art in hotel rooms; the visual equivalent of muzak.