Food was the only thing on the wombats' minds as the driver floored the van out of another hairpin bend. Humans went to alpine regions in winter, to go skiing of all things. Totally nutty. The worst ones engaged in ludicrous activities involving climbing gear and snowboards and spiky boots and other complicated instruments of torture. Was the entire species bent on extreme discomfort? As one the wombats shuddered, recalling frozen toes, the white glare of the snow and, the stuff of horror movies, no grass to eat. Never again. It was infinitely better in spring and summer, when the snow retreated and flowers bloomed in a green smorgasbord custom-made for wombats. The only difficulty was getting up there, but it's best not to ask where a marsupial learnt to hotwire a van.

Acrylic.