Write four lines of prose about: the bat.
Sigh. I do not like bats.
Or, as I like to call them whenever Kat insists on tyring to tell me they're flying around, night birds. Because there are no bats around here. Nope, nope, nope.
I am not certain I'm going to be able to do this in just four lines, but I shall do my best.
Happy to have gotten through this week intact. Hoping for a more restful, less interesting weekend than the last one.
Earlier this year there was a bat hanging around the washrooms on Pioneer Walkway but it disappeared over the summer. It has, as you may have already guessed, reappeared.
Wednesday morning it was hanging off the wall in the upper corner of the men's stall, and that's where it still was Thursday morning. We agreed to ignore each other but when I unlocked the men's side this morning it was on the wall directly in front of the door... so it had to go... through the urging of a broom (held very much at arm's length) and a whole lot of swearing.