Tuesday Morning – Mondayitis

I rolled around, I couldn’t sleep, there was too much on my mind; the rain outside was poking the roof at some unheard of time, the wind laughed at my misery and flashed a red cape made of leaves to get me charging angrily, headlong into the trees. And what I should I find there? What did I see, but Procrastanis speaking Gibberish in front of a settee and on the ground there was a fire that was fuelled by the rain and on a spit above it, paws held out to the flames a fireproof giraffe was...