Small, white little thing. Yet for his size, he chubby and his head like a rounded cone. Hard to the touch, but the fur oddly feels like fabric, softer than I expect. The bottom of the feet are smoothed out though, like a polished table. His face is set in a smile, crooked and wide, and I'm sure if he had teeth he'd be showing them. His eyes are almost narrowed and his nose large and nostrils wide. His chest is big and the etched in fur almost makes him look puffy-as if he will beat on his chest at any moment. He's looking up though, his head slightly tilted toward the sky, or in this case, at me. As if to ask a question or to simply stare. His brow is wrinkled as he looks at me and I could almost swear that if he could, he would ask me a question. Instead, he sits on my table and stares up at me, stopped in mid-motion. His paws sit on the ground, one a little forward, as if my presence struck him to stop his trek.
Describing my little statue gorilla was easier than I expected it to be, but I don't really know if I went the right way with his description. Hopefully I did of course, but I guess that's all part of the process. There was plethora of other item to choose from, from my chapstick to mt pop cans to scissors and my iron pills that I still need to take. But I decided on my gorilla because he's an awesome member of of my favorite animal family. My dad gave him to me, after stumbling across him, and he actually sits on my table at my computer desk now, enjoying the view whenever I type or waste time on the internet. Sometimes though I do have to turn him away-his stare can get to you on some days.
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