A crow squawks.
A owl hoots.
A snakes hisses.
A cow moos.
A dog barks.
A cat screeches.
A rat squeaks.
A goat goes bleat.
The crow squawks again. This time louder, more fearfully. Then the rain comes. The rain always comes after the second call of the crow. It comes down hard and aggressive. A boy stands in the forest alone. The boy is small and afraid. The boy is Pinocchio.
“Hello?” he asks softly into the night. He asks as the breeze rolls across his face giving him a chill up his wooden little spine. It shakes him and he feels the touch of a hand on his splintered back. It comforts somehow. So soft. So warm. He looks quickly behind him.
But there is no one there. No one at all. He hangs his head. How he prayed that it had been Geppetto. He hadn’t seen him in awhile. It had been hours. Or days? Or weeks? Or centuries?? He didn’t know the way home and he was terrified walking about the woods all alone.
“This is your home BOY”
A voice seemed to whisper from the trees. But it couldn’t be. Trees don’t talk. It was tender and urgent. It frightened our dear wooden little boy. He looked frantically all around. No one was there no one but him and the big dark trees.
“Come home to your papa”
Pinocchio screamed as his body seemed to sway and be led into the trees. A force was pulling him in.
He sang softly to himself, “When you wish upon a star daa daa doo daa doo dee daa…” he looked panicked. “I don’t know the other words I wasn’t listening! God what were the words!?”
The branches seemed to engulf Pinocchio. Covering his mouth and face. He tried to run but he couldn’t. The trees began to pull his body apart limb from limb. Tearing him up into bite sizes. Devouring him into the branches and down into the roots. Returning him to his rightful home. The wood of the tree. The trees seemed to be gleefully reclaiming the wood of the boy. Soon nothing remained but a small hat laid gently on the floor of the forest. The trees laughed and the wind rolled through them. Then there was stillness and silence. A fearful quiet.
A man walked through the woods holding a bag full of lumber from a distinctly large Home Depot bag. The trees grew tall and wide blocking more and more of the sun. They knew what to Do.
“Oh my goodness you guys! Hey!” bellowed the wood from the bag. “It’s me your cousin Bark? Remember? Remember how I was chopped down and I was like ‘noooo I’ll never see you again’ but look here I am! I’m here! Cousin Bark! Guys omg what’re the chances????”
The man holding the wood,frightened, he dropped the bag and ran out of the forest.
“Oh come on don’t leave him with us!” yelled the trees.
“Wowowowowow so cool to see y’all! What’ve you been up to? What’s the deal? What’s the haps? Tell me everything!! I was chopped up. Yawn! Tossed into a Home Depot. Met a lot of cool guys from forests. Found the love of my life god! Ha! She was gorgeous, dark, smooth, rings that won’t quit. But that’s such a long story to get into... That I’ll start now!” the wood continued talking on and on and on and on. Never pausing and the trees could not reclaim him, no, they were just annoyed in the forest for the rest of eternity. The end.
Back to Oct. 30 | Back to Main Page