Harry on sundown aka A Day at the Zoo

'No wife, can't stay, have to go.'

The greasy Immigration official hurumphed matter-of-factly as former Blicton on Sea Headmaster Harry Wainscott stood before him, bemused.

'But I live here, how can I stay, this is my home', the older Englishman meekly asked, ignoring the spittle on the other's uniform.

The uninformed uniform countered, 

'No wife, no stay, get another wife.' It was beginning to sound like a refrain from Bob Marley.

From the immigration official's perspective it all seemed so simple. Why hadn't Harry thought of it too. Harry questioned, did the blue uniform actually have an inhabitant, or did it have crassness as a primary drive, guiding its lack of civility and compassion.

There were times in Harry's life when pith just missed him, he became pithless in a time worthy of pith. Harry was unable to air a pithy retort, with the low drone of the immigration official's pronouncement drumming at his ears, and heart.

It had been embarrassing, and more than a little nerve shattering for Harry to admit, Oscar Wilde's Ernest like, that he had misplaced his spouse three years previously. Though misplaced may not have been one hundred per cent correct. She had walked out, with an Australian Sheep herder, heading, ironically, towards Harry's Blighty. That was the last he had seen of her, in a blazing June, three years hence.

Harry, stalwart fellow he, had girded his loins and had prepared to humiliate himself before the gargantuan of Malaysia's Immigration Service, some embarrassing conversation regarding his lack of spouse for a spouse visa, and some reasonable suggestions as to how to put a wrong situation right. What he had not been prepared for was a sniggering reception staff, who could barely contain a guffaw as he handed Harry over to his larger colleague who, seemingly, found Harry's plight a constant source of amusement.  

'But to get a divorce and a new wife, I first need to find my old one. But, I don't know where she is'. 

The officious official harrumphed once more, gave Harry his passport back and suggest that Harry leave the country on or before the date his visa was due. It was with a heavy heart that Harry mooched out of Shah Alam Immigration Service that morning. Harry had read about nomads before. They had tents didn't they, camels perhaps. 

'Now where the hell am I to get a tent and camels in downtown Selangor State, Malaysia', Harry idly wondered......