Nothing Further

For now the season seems to be over. Every once in awhile my eye will catch a glimpse of a dessicated mango carcass in the tower, or a bird will spit out the last pieces of flesh of a fruit that never ripened. My heart pounds a bit faster, and my tail will wag instinctively. But I have managed to keep my wits about me. I fear, however, that as soon as the tree starts to blossom, it will become possessed once again by the bogeyman. And when its gnarled arms stretch out over my head and are weighed down by hundreds and hundreds of the jeweled fruit, the delirium will set in once again. Until then, I have a kingdom to reign. I have vowed to myself and to my new country that I will not allow the mango madness to be my demise, as was syphilis to Henry VIII. So now that I have shared this with you, I will try to say nothing further on the subject.