There was a time when I waited for Sunday. After a week of work, and I worked hard, a day of rest was very welcome. I loved to sleep. I am not an atheist, and I go to church maybe once a year for midnight mass on Christmas eve. So I'm not a churchgoer basically. Therefore Sundays did not mean that I was seated in the pews in church listening to the pastor's sermon. The pastor, in fact, would not recognise me until my sister, who goes more often to church, introduced me as her brother after Christmas Eve mass. I also had a problem sleeping and would lie awake at nights trying desperately trying to fall asleep. I tried counting sheep and it never worked. I also tried those sleeping videos on YouTube. I listened \ and felt bored. They were not music I was familiar with and they kept my eyelids firmly apart. Even a safe tranquillizer that my doctor prescribed did not have any effect. The on...
I was amazed to find a sheep baying at the moon. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Shh!" he hissed," I'm imitating a wolf." "I beg your pardon?" I asked. "I'm imitating a wolf," he repeated sheepishly. "Why?" I asked bluntly. "Because wolves prey," he said. "They say their prayers, do they?" I asked amazed. "Baa! "And, you like the moon?" I asked. "Baa," he snarled going back to the wolf routine. "So you are a sheep in wolves clothing?" "It's the latest fashion," he replied. "Do you always horn in?" I asked wishing to be illuminated. "No, I only honk it," the sheep replied. "I meant do you gatecrash parties?" I asked. "Wolves love to," he said. "Oh! Wolves have a love life!" I exclaimed. "They love sheep," he said morosel...