It is a hard knock life for some people. It was such a sad story to tell, about the broken hearted Chameleon. And you'd be thinking what would I care about a stupid Chameleon, wouldn't you? Well, I met this Chameleon in the sunny banks of middle east Africa, where the glowing, shimmering sun burns down on you like great fiery heater, whilst you think that it will burn you to the bone, and then smoulder through that too. Sweat emerges like a crocodile from a muddy river-until you actually observe a scaly, bulky crocodile sticking it's nose out of the manky waters. I screamed, only to fin a flock of bubbles blowing out of the surface, followed by more of those terrifying dangers. I was as petrified as a bird being caught in a net. But I wasn't caught, was I? So I scampered away like a frightened mouse and without knowing, crashed into an over hanging branch covered in bracken and leaves. When I woke up, a large gloopy creature was sitting, just sitting as if nothing was underneath it, on my nose. I yelled noisily, sending a nearby flock of parrots flying off. I was just about to run off because I thought the crocodiles were going to come back, when the Chameleon (for that was the animal) talked. He said that his wife had broken up and then been eaten up, so he was heart broken. I felt sorry for him, and promised him that when I next came back to Africa, I would bring a Chameleon, so that he would be happy again. We agreed, and I haven't gone back since-it has been over 30 years. I promised myself that the solitary Chameleon would have died by then. I was safe... for now.