About a week ago a little flu virus decided to find a new place to live. After trialing all different sorts of new accommodation (the last being at my friends place, Chez Ian) this virus found a property that was irresistible. It was my nose. So he moved and had himself a house warming party, inviting all of his nearest and dearest, and not so nearest, to celebrate his new lodgings. Things got wildly out of hand.
All the water stored in the nasal cavities was quickly consumed, and sudden the virus was experiencing a drought. He realised that he had trashed the place beyond repair. So it was time to find new lodgings. And it just so happened that a new premises was available in the same establishment, just a few floors lower. So the virus made the leap and moved down to my chest cavity where it found home sweet home.
So the virus realised that he had all enough square footage in his new abode to finally realise a dream. Papers were filed, interviews were held, papers reviewed and stamps applied. Finally his family immigrated into my chest cavity. It was a warm reunion that brought a tear to the ear. Seriously, the tears ducts were almost inflamed.
On their way moving in, some of the larger stuff got stuck in the doorway. After a loud bang or two, everyone had settled in. But they broke the doorbell of my vocal chords. Not when it tries to produce sound, there is a slight hissing noise where there once use to be dulcet tones. Must get someone to fix that.
Being the creative virus that he is, he decided the place needed something. So after much consultation, the family got together and decided to redecorate the walls a stunning yellowy green colour.
Yes, home is where the heart is … or at least in the organ next door.
troy david johnston 