EDGAR
‘Pardon my giraffe,’ said Edgar.
‘Why did that funny man say “Pardon my giraffe”, Mommy?’ said Clarissa.
‘Never mind, darling. Hurry along now,’ said Clarissa’s mother.
Edgar continued wandering along the street, bumping into walls, windows, and the occasional parking meter.
‘Say, pal, watch where you’re going,’ said a night watchman on his way to work and narrowly avoiding a collision with Edgar.
‘Pardon my giraffe,’ said Edgar, and he staggered on.
Eight weeks passed.
A man stepped over Edgar’s legs, extended as they were out onto the sidewalk.
‘Pardon my giraffe,’ mumbled Edgar.
A constable familiar with Edgar appeared on the scene.
‘Edgar, what are you doing? Your giraffe was pardoned long ago,’ said the constable.
‘Oh, good,’ said Edgar, a smile further damaging his already ruined face.
Edgar, content, held on grimly to that smile.
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