Please help me,
Today there is white on the ground and in the air. This is not a normal thing for me, I am frightened by the flecks that land on my window and the absence of the grass. Where did the grass go, and why is it no longer green where the grass should be? In the program called paint, you can select a little bucket, and select the color white, and change the grass on any picture you want, but then it is empty like you never had drawn anything to begin with.
Here's a story that I will tell to comfort myself:
This is Antipodes, the wayward tortoise.
"What's a tortoise?" I make you ask naively.
You may be familiar with turtles, and you may be familiar with terrapins. Turtles live in water, terrapins on land. Tortoises, their element: the air. High amongst the treetops, slowly, gracefully flinging themselves branch to branch. A majestic sight as they glide.
Now that you are familiar, we join the wayward tortoise years ago as he reposes idly in the joint between two massive branches of a fig tree. He calls this fig tree home. It is a temporary label, for the wayward tortoise truly has no home. Infrequently does he have the time for idleness, so he enjoys it while he can. From his vantage, he can see the trees stretch away into the distance, down a gentle slope, and the view causes a moment of self-reflection.
"I am the king of the canopy," he thinks, with no hint of arrogance, and the moment is over.
This is Trudy, the friendly worm. Though friendly, Trudy has no friends. On this day, at this exact point in time, she happens to be in the fig-tree home of the wayward tortoise. From her vantage point, Trudy can't see anything, nor could she from any other vantage point.
The wayward tortoise chooses this moment, this precise instant, to take his gaze from the slope below. He spots Trudy, and reaches out his neck and head and mouth to lazily chomp her up. Yet, he hesitates, and finally withdraws his powerful jaws.
Sensing the maliferous bulk beside her, Trudy begins to communicate, with the deference typical of a friendly annelid, "O great and gentle beast, I beseech you hear my plea. I am but a lowly worm, with naught but kindness and my name to keep me warm. To you, who has so much, I can offer little in return for clemency."
The wayward tortoise, intrigued by this eloquent worm, comforts it with his kind words, "You have nothing to fear."
The two conversed long into the night, and so it came to pass that two journeys became one. When a bird or squirrel came to threaten Trudy with ingestion, the wayward tortoise would protect her. When the wayward tortoise grew hungry, Trudy would offer a few segments of herself, which she would later regrow. Their teamwork and friendship won them renown in the hearts and minds of the forest creatures. And that's pretty much the end I guess.
Sincerely,
walter