gorilla world

I move on. I have to find my friends. Have to. But where am I?

I leap over another mangled signpost with bent arrows. One way to Reptileville. One way to Lion Land.

I pass the Mangrove Swamp. A manatee pokes up her big head, draped with Spanish moss like a silly wig.

Two workers in yellow raincoats trot past me. One has a bloody bandage on his cheek.

I need to stop. Regroup. Cool it, Bob, I tell myself. I’m panicking, not taking in the right data. I try to blot out all the horrible smells, all the awful noise.

I concentrate, let my nose do the real work.

A whiff of something familiar. Gorilla? It has to be gorilla.

Full run now. I cut my back left paw on a shard of glass. Trip. Fall hard on my nose and cut it, too.

Dripping blood, I carry on. Find them. Find them. Find them.

A massive old oak lies on its side at the entrance to Gorilla World. Huge tangled roots grope into the air like frozen snakes.

And just beyond, where Ivan lives, is nothing but devastation.