Chris could see the curtain of rain advancing across the lake towards him.
“Bloody stupid!” he berated himself. He quickly packed up his camera kit, snatched up his bicycle and set off. Pedalling franticly; he’d stayed too long, and was going to get soaked. His train of thought was abruptly broken.
A movement off to the right caught his eye: not far away - the width of the road maybe? Time slowed as Chris’s mind raced to process what he was seeing: small, about half a metre high, a light brown colour and hairy, running on all fours, a dog? No, not a dog; the face was all wrong… the face?
“Fucking monkey!” he shrieked, struggling to avoid it. Time suddenly came crashing back to normality as panic and adrenalin conspired to kick him in the ass. The monkey raced across the road and made a bolt for the tree line. Chris swerved squeezed the brake hard, realising just too late it was the wrong one - the front wheel stopped abruptly, with inevitable results.
Quickly pulling himself off the road, Chris sub-consciously knew he could still be in danger, but the macaque was sitting a few metres away eating a piece of fruit. This was his first encounter with a wild monkey and it had scared him half to death. Shaken, he tried to sound friendly, as he eased his camera from its bag.
“Just stay there you little bugger!”