Evolved from the rain

    Arthur blinked and understood nothing. It was less complicated than "being" but more difficult to think about. And it was very damp. Household waste dripped from the branches — empty tins of cream of asparagus soup, the foil containers of innumerable Indian take-aways, mouldy kiwi-fruit.

    "We evolved from the rain," said the lizard lugubriously. "It's rather sad. I used to be the outside of a pineapple and a superannuated courgette. Our creation myth involves a malfunctioning waste-disposal unit sending garbage forth into space, imbued with the breath of life. It makes one feel second-hand, somehow."

    "At least you weren't tinned pineapple," said Arthur.

    "I was," said a rather improbable Del Monte tortoise.

    "I wasn't," explained Hannibal, emerging bleary-eyed from a puddle of grapefruit.