It’s hot. I’m very tired. I should be enjoying my stay here, but I’m not. Yes, the water is the color of turquoise dipped in the sky. The red roof stands out boldly against the stark white of the Inn, making it a picture perfect postcard. But there are few children here. Mainly adults dressed in finery, playing golf and badminton and croquet.
My parents urge me to explore the grounds, but within eyeshot and earshot of course. What possible fun is that?
But today, I got a postcard.
I’ve never seen a bengal tiger or elephant or polar bear. In books, yes. But never in real life.
I envy Nanny so.
I close my eyes and imagine the sounds these animals would make.
Would Nanny be scared? Would she take any photographs?
I can see Nanny now with camera in hand, trying to balance her parasol with one hand while holding her camera with the other.
She doesn’t much like taking photographs, but she promised me she would.
After all, it’s one thing seeing these animals in a postcard and quite another seeing them in a photograph.
I close my eyes and imagine I’m at the zoo with Nanny.
But then the dinner bell rings and it’s time to be prim and proper for the old folks,
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