Home alone? Never.

Please forgive me for not sharing anything with you for the last couple of days. No, wait, why am I apologizing? I am an orc, we don’t do something like that. This human stuff is rubbing off on me in more than one way. The thing is: I had the flu. Again. (see last post) Never before in the 30 years I’ve haunted this world or any other did I have such an annoying illness. Being sick in any form is incredibly unorcish. The other members of the tribe would not let you live if they sensed a weakness. So in my world the flu would definitely be lethal. There is a strange thing about humans that they seem to care a lot for those who would not make it on their own otherwise.
Two days ago I followed my human to visit an old-people’s home. Not only did they live separately from the rest of the tribe but other humans were hired to look after them. Some of them sat in small transport devices, some needed to be fed, almost all of them had problems hearing properly. Not one of them would survive for just one day in the wilderness. And yet humans spend a lot of time and gold to care for these people. The question is why. They are not useful to the tribe, Quite the opposite. Imagine an orc in diapers. An old-orc’s home. Could it get more humiliating? I’m assuming that these humans had a life on their own, stood up for themselves. And here they were, spilling their coffee all over the nappy draped around the neck. On the plus side: their bad eyesight prevented them from recognizing me as a dangerous creature.
But then the music started, a flute and a harp, and suddenly their eyes shone with delight, they started singing and looked just happy. I am not ashamed to admit that it brought a tear to my otherwise cold and merciless yellow eye. Also the singing was horrible to the orcish ear but that was not the point. So what if we let the old orcs live? Put them in special care? Listen to their stories of the good old times? To be honest I am getting frighteningly close to the dangerous age. I might have to share a lot of stories with the young ones. Imagine me sitting down with the chief and telling him to set up a tent for the geriatric orcs. I would be dead before I finished saying ‘XXL-diaper’. So I might be staying here. Would they take me in? What age could an orc reach if not taken out by his tribe or life in the wilderness?
My human does not seem to be too happy about me being around for decades. But I kind of like that idea. The flat we’re sharing is a lot spacier than the one in London. Or rather, it could be a lot spacier if it were not stuffed with books. I seriously consider eating a few of them to gain more room but after the first experience I fear I cannot stomach them. Heavy stuff, hard to digest.
Also I think I found some comrades in spirit in this world, this town, the online world. I have not found them in person but I suspect at least some of them to live rather close to me. Could it be that they’re avoiding my acquaintance? Why? I am an exceptionally nice orc! A total disgrace to my tribe, to be honest. I think I’ll call them my twitterades. Yes, I’m talking about you, @tywunon and @mekaredaray . A lot of avatars on the web do not look the least bit like a real human. I know for sure because my human is not a tiny blue fluffy creature but her avatar is. So are my twitterades a she-human and a green reaper? Who knows? And who cares? That’s what I like about the interweb. It does not matter what you look like. I can just be my usual grumpy orcish self. Hurrah.

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