Animals

I’m fed up with human beings, X tells me. I’d much rather be an animal, he says, and isn’t that what I’ve always wanted to be? I love them, he says. There’s no vanity in them, no preening, not like our preening, not even in the peacock. They don’t really know what they look like. They’d never fall in love with the reflection in the pool, they don’t know how beautiful they are. We’re a blight on the earth, he says, an abomination in the sight of God, especially you and me. The cheetah chasing a gazelle, zebras grazing among baboons – how pure, how moving! he says. Well, maybe not so much the baboons, but still. I can sit and watch a cat sleeping all day, he says, you’ve seen me do it. I’d trade places with any of them in a second, he says, with the possible exception of the baboons. And the gazelle.

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