Well, as may be expected, there was no ray of sunshine or hope for my partner last night. I think you know what I'm talking about. My partner's play went exceptionally well - one of the best-received in her experience and she was much applauded by all. But this goes only a small way to fill the gap left by her disappointment. Such was the extent of her distress that she only remained a short while at the after-show party and returned home early, sober and in tears. Most unsettling. Although good, in one way.
During the wee small hours before dawn, a "thunder storm", in reality the Angry Sky-Dog, roared with such enormity that I was more than usually terrified. The sky boomed and poured water as the land was illuminated by the Sky-Dog's spidery claws streaking across the atmosphere. My partner escorted me downstairs, as always when the Sky -Dog attacks at night, so that I can better hide from him and feel secure. My partner then attempts to go back to sleep on a small mattress with a cushion and sheet while I endlessly clamber over her (she's a lucky girl). She was so tired on this occasion that she swiftly gave up trying to persuade me to return to the floor and allowed me to sit on her head, trembling all the while.
Most unfortunately, while seated on the side of my partner's face, I inadvertently released a large quantity of toxic gas from my bottom directly into her nostrils. This did not augur well for continuing my current seating position and I found myself swiftly propelled back to the floor. I decided not to worsen her mood by returning and so I stole her sheet and hid under that instead. The Sky-Dog, after a more prolonged attack than usual this time, eventually gave up and retreated to his lair.
Happily for us both, my partner did not carry out her threat to violate my bottom with a cork.
Good night.
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