The jeep trundled along the tired dirt track. Dust flew up from under its wheels, a conspicuous cloud in the vast wilderness of the African bush. A lion roared somewhere in the distance.
At least, that’s what should have been happening. The tin of paint was called ‘African Adventure’, after all.
Instead, I was kneeling on the hard floorboards of my mum’s bedroom, painting the wall a muddy orange colour. Yep.
I’m not entirely sure why this muddy orange colour made anyone think of an ‘African adventure’. There isn’t even the excuse of ‘well, it looks kind of like sunburn’, because who goes orange when they burn.
Perhaps fake tan, but who would bother fake tanning before going to freaking Africa?
I wish I could see a zebra.
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