Hip Hippo, Hoorah!

The marble, ceramics and little wooden hippos from my hippo collections

came alive! They started to search for water. Frantic and in a frenzy in need

to quench their thirst, dunk in muddy water, and meet a mate, if they are of

age. Single hippos ready to connect with opposite sex. The hallways and

corridors of my apartment dominated by commanding young wooden,

ceramic and marble hippos that need their immediate want addressed,

feeling the urgent necessity.

What was I to do? A thought came to my head. Next door to my building

was a construction site. There I would retrieve soil, fill my bath tub with

water, and provide the necessary accoutrements for the parade of my hippos.

All went well until the caravan of hippos marched out of the tub and tracked

water everywhere.

The wooden floors started to buckle, swell, and separate.

My downstairs neighbor, Pearl, started to scream in honor; “It is raining in

my apartment from above the dwelling.”

Just then, someone rang my bell.

It was the delivery man.

He woke me up from my hippo dream.

All was well.

I went back to bed and cuddled back to sleep.

Hip Hippo Hoorah.

Read The Usefulness of Hippopotamus: A Humorous Chapbook for Trying

Times.

by Vincent J. Tomeo