Monday, August 14, 2023

Carl

Carl quickened his pace as he headed for the airport.

“Good luck Carl!” Everyone cheered. “You got this!”

Optimism fueled him as his tiny bug feet clicked on the ground. He was not going to take no for an answer. He would be the first bug pilot in the world. His time had come.

6 1/2 weeks later he arrived at the airport. Another 4 days and he found his way to the terminal and finally inside an airplane. By the time he found his way to the cockpit the airplane was already above the clouds.

“Let me fly!” he shouted to the pilot.

“Who said that?”

“Down here! My whole life I’ve wanted to be a pilot. I know I can do it. Just give me a chance.”

The pilots jaw dropped. “A… a talking bug?”

“Yes! Let me fly!”

“I can’t let a bug fly. That’s absurd!”

“And so is a talking bug,” Carl said, “but here we are.”

The pilot surprised himself when he got out of the seat, saluted Carl, and said, with tears in his eyes, “She’s all yours… captain.”

312 souls were lost that day when the plane smashed into the side of the mountain. But Carl died with a smile on his little bug face. He did it. First bug pilot in the world.

Sunday, August 13, 2023

The Big Fish

There once was a big fish in a small pond. The fish was so big, and the pond so small, that he could only move about in a very small circle. He would spend his days eating bugs and looking up at the squirrels that lived and played on the great oak tree.

“If only I was a squirrel— how much fun I would have!” He looked down at his fins. “Useless things.”

“If I at least had a friend,” he said, tears now filling his eyes, “Then I might not be so miserable.”

As if in answer to his cries a squirrel hopped to edge of the water. “Why are you crying fish?” He asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? I can barely move and I have no friends. I can’t climb trees like you squirrels. It looks so fun!”

“Wow. That is sad!” And without another word the squirrel ran back to the tree to continue playing with the others.

This was too much for the fish. The crushing loneliness now crushed harder, and so he began crying. He cried like he’d never cried before. And then he cried harder. Tears poured like a fountain as the fish gave in to a dark despair.

The tears kept flowing and it didn’t take long for his many tears to raise the water level of that little pond. Higher and higher the water went until it began to spread beyond the pond and across the ground. The startled squirrels scurried up the tree to avoid being washed away by the mysterious, rising tide.

The fish soon realized what was happening and began swimming out of the pond. To where? He did not know. He could die on this swim and it would be worth it. The water ran like a current taking the fish finally into a fast moving river. The river ran even harder and the fish felt helpless as the water moved him along and into—

He had never dreamed of a body of water this big. Was this a lake? He swam up and down, whirling and twirling, laughing and splashing. Faster and faster he swam and soon he was joined by other fish that wanted to be part of the fun.

The fish was smiling now as he looked at his new friends and then at his magnificent fins. “I’d like to see a squirrel do this!” he thought.

Stray

 The writer was enjoying a nice stroll when he spotted the story on the side of the road. Cute little thing, he thought. Looks hungry too. H...