Post by Cate on Sept 5, 2012 20:35:30 GMT -5
“And miles to go before I sleep…and miles to go before I sleep…” the elderly man mumbled beneath his breath, quoting Robert Frost. “And miles to go before I sleep…”
A cart tumbled along beside him, pulled along by his trusty friend Darryl the llama. It moved forward awkwardly upon the path in the direction of the setting sun that refused to sink below the horizon.
The man turned toward the llama and grinned with a jack-o-lantern smile in his direction. The llama returned it through its own crooked jaws and hummed happily. Having been shunned by his own llama-kind, it was nice to have a companion that was always by his side, faithful and true.
The path began to become more and more overgrown the farther into the forest they went. The old man bit his lip. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I took the one less traveled by…” he mumbled to himself.
Darryl lurched forward a moment and stopped. When the old man turned, he was dismayed to find the wheel of the llama’s cart had gotten caught on one of the roots reaching out of the ground and snapped.
“Cheap wood…” he mumbled to himself, kneeling down beside the cart and inspecting the breakage. “Unfixable…” He stood up once more and examined his wares.
Only a few wheels of cheese remained, and if he did not reach town before the sun set, he would certainly lose all it. The circling birds overhead did nothing to aid in the matter.
“I shall need a miracle…” He knelt down once more to examine the wheel, but pain erupted in his fingers. “Stupid arthritis!” he cursed, shaking his hands as if that would help to alleviate the pain. He glanced up at the path and cocked his head to the side. Where was he even going?
“Darryl, where are we off to? Does this path lead anywhere?” he questioned the llama.
The llama, to his surprise, did not respond.
“I see how it is! I treat you well, feed you, give you a roof over your head and this is how you repay me!?!” he snapped, slowly getting back to his feet.
The llama blinked the one eye that was not swollen shut, but did not respond otherwise.
“See if I need you!” he spat at him, stumbling away toward the thickest parts of the forest. “Dumb animal…” he complained to himself.
The further he got, the more lost he became, but as he did not know where he was going or where he had come from, it did not affect him in the least.
Amongst the dark and dreary colours of fall stood out a lone sprinkling of beauty. He raised an eyebrow and moved quickly toward it. “What have we here?” he inquired, kneeling down beside the splash of colour.
As he got closer, he could make out that it was not simply a splash of colour, but a rose of the most peculiar colour. He reached out and plucked the dark beauty from the ground, its stem breaking as though it was made of nothing more than just glass.
A sweet scent came from the navy petals of the flower, gently caressing his nose. “Magnificent…” he mumbled to himself.
Slowly, sleep enveloped his body and he drifted softly to the ground.
Darryl snuck over and peered through the brush. “The old man never suspected a thing!” he chuckled, humming happily to himself as he pranced over. “Won’t master be pleased with me?”
A cart tumbled along beside him, pulled along by his trusty friend Darryl the llama. It moved forward awkwardly upon the path in the direction of the setting sun that refused to sink below the horizon.
The man turned toward the llama and grinned with a jack-o-lantern smile in his direction. The llama returned it through its own crooked jaws and hummed happily. Having been shunned by his own llama-kind, it was nice to have a companion that was always by his side, faithful and true.
The path began to become more and more overgrown the farther into the forest they went. The old man bit his lip. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I took the one less traveled by…” he mumbled to himself.
Darryl lurched forward a moment and stopped. When the old man turned, he was dismayed to find the wheel of the llama’s cart had gotten caught on one of the roots reaching out of the ground and snapped.
“Cheap wood…” he mumbled to himself, kneeling down beside the cart and inspecting the breakage. “Unfixable…” He stood up once more and examined his wares.
Only a few wheels of cheese remained, and if he did not reach town before the sun set, he would certainly lose all it. The circling birds overhead did nothing to aid in the matter.
“I shall need a miracle…” He knelt down once more to examine the wheel, but pain erupted in his fingers. “Stupid arthritis!” he cursed, shaking his hands as if that would help to alleviate the pain. He glanced up at the path and cocked his head to the side. Where was he even going?
“Darryl, where are we off to? Does this path lead anywhere?” he questioned the llama.
The llama, to his surprise, did not respond.
“I see how it is! I treat you well, feed you, give you a roof over your head and this is how you repay me!?!” he snapped, slowly getting back to his feet.
The llama blinked the one eye that was not swollen shut, but did not respond otherwise.
“See if I need you!” he spat at him, stumbling away toward the thickest parts of the forest. “Dumb animal…” he complained to himself.
The further he got, the more lost he became, but as he did not know where he was going or where he had come from, it did not affect him in the least.
Amongst the dark and dreary colours of fall stood out a lone sprinkling of beauty. He raised an eyebrow and moved quickly toward it. “What have we here?” he inquired, kneeling down beside the splash of colour.
As he got closer, he could make out that it was not simply a splash of colour, but a rose of the most peculiar colour. He reached out and plucked the dark beauty from the ground, its stem breaking as though it was made of nothing more than just glass.
A sweet scent came from the navy petals of the flower, gently caressing his nose. “Magnificent…” he mumbled to himself.
Slowly, sleep enveloped his body and he drifted softly to the ground.
Darryl snuck over and peered through the brush. “The old man never suspected a thing!” he chuckled, humming happily to himself as he pranced over. “Won’t master be pleased with me?”
and that kills me