Goorillas in the Missed: Day 1

A Vintage Post, retrieved from Scrubbed Innocence

Day 1:

The animals avert their eyes and grow quiet when I enter their habitat. They fear me, no doubt, having sensed my potential for god only knows. The dust barely stirs here. I am the unpredictable creature in what seems a normally banal environment. I cannot yet tell if the quiet results from pervasive fear (I know not of what) or from oblivion. They do make sounds, but I cannot discern any linguistic patterns. Their animal noises consist of nervous twittering and snorting, with jolting neck movements that resemble human uncertainty, as if their beings are constantly undecided on the matter of whether or not to be.