The Golden Thymus, a regal and wise plant with shimmering golden leaves, is swaying gently in the breeze. The Clever Mouse Deer, known for his intelligence and cunning, approaches with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Golden Thymus: Ah, dear friend Mouse Deer, what brings you to my side today?
Clever Mouse Deer: Greetings, Golden Thymus! I come bearing news of great peril that has befallen our forest.
Golden Thymus: Peril, you say? Pray, tell me more.
Clever Mouse Deer: A group of hungry animals has set their sights on the Golden Cucumber, who grows on the outskirts of the forest. They plan to devour it come nightfall.
Golden Thymus: Oh, this is grave news indeed! The Golden Cucumber is a precious treasure of our forest. We must act swiftly to protect it.
Clever Mouse Deer: Fear not, dear friend, for I have a plan. With your wisdom and my cunning, we can outsmart these ravenous beasts.
Golden Thymus: I am all ears, Mouse Deer. What is your plan?
Clever Mouse Deer: We shall lure the predators away from the Golden Cucumber using a diversion. While they are distracted, you will use your golden shimmer to blind them temporarily, giving me the opportunity to lead the Cucumber to safety.
Golden Thymus: A clever plan indeed, my friend! Let us waste no time in putting it into action.
As night falls, the predators gather near the Golden Cucumber, their eyes glinting with hunger. Suddenly, the Clever Mouse Deer leaps out from behind a bush, drawing their attention away.
Clever Mouse Deer: Over here, you fiends! Come and catch me if you can!
While the predators chase after the Mouse Deer, the Golden Thymus emits a dazzling golden light, temporarily blinding them. Seizing the opportunity, the Clever Mouse Deer swiftly guides the Golden Cucumber to safety.
Golden Thymus: Well done, Mouse Deer! You have saved the Golden Cucumber from certain doom.
Clever Mouse Deer: It was nothing, Golden Thymus. Just a little trickery and quick thinking.
Golden Thymus: Your bravery and cunning have proven invaluable, my friend. The forest is safer with you by our side.
As dawn breaks, the Golden Thymus and the Clever Mouse Deer stand triumphantly, their friendship stronger than ever, knowing that they have protected their precious forest together.
About the Creator
kristiono
stories about life, there is no end. There are always stories that we have to experience and go through, joys and sorrows that we have to go through. always think positively about the life we live
Peanuts and Crackerjack
Bottom of the ninth inning. The game is tied with two outs, two strikes and a man on second. I tap the bat on home plate. The rigid vibrations it creates reminds my aching digits that this isn't over. The practice swing only adds to the heft of mental burnout... Man on second, willing to chance it. Pitcher eyes him but doesn't give in to the dangerous bluff. I kick up dust, readying the peculiar stance I've had since the days of little league. The bat lays stiff upon my cramping shoulder. Pain has no reason to be acknowledged; it's a fleeting afterthought. The sun sits passed high noon, but the stadium lights are on anyway. They trick my brain into believing they are the cause of this sweltering heat. Sporadic clouds are motionless, they too, don't want to miss this exhilarating predicament. Anticipating the next pitch, intensifying roars from the crowd rumble the stadium... Behind me, the crafty catcher adjusts his stance and spits to the dry dirt. Behind him, the staunch umpire doesn't flinch or even blink; he knows how important his call will be. The pitcher winds up, his grip tells me its gonna curve. The release is fierce! Beads of sweat from his hair and face disperse in every direction as the force of his might is unfailing. My left leg lifts—an instinctual move that will increase the power of my swing. It's all down to my two, bloodshot eyes. They lock onto the speeding, white dot as it instantly becomes the target I intend to destroy. The swing is late, but I manage a solid tip. The ball is taking a fast bounce toward the pitcher who is recovering from the almighty throw! Man on second leaves in a desperate rush! I fling the bat to the side with a sense of urgency and make a mad sprint to the only destination I have—first base. Three defenders race inward to be the first to retrieve the skidding ball. Man is almost on third! I watch the open glove of my adversary, wondering if I’ve done enough to win this race. I switch my attention to his eyes, looking for a clue, some kind of reaction that tells me the ball is in the air and heading his way. All I see is frustration. The deafening roar of the crowd spikes! Something happens that I can’t see! My opponent abandons his post right as my left stride touches the bag. I waste no time turning my head to see the pitcher laying on his stomach, pounding the mound with an open glove. He misses the opportunity to out me and the ball has quickly bounced past him. Excitement grows! This isn’t over yet... It's become an imperative fight to tag out the runner heading homeward. The catcher falls to his knees in obvious despair as he watches my teammate make the run of his life. He knows it’s going to be close when he sees the shortstop fumble the ball a second too long. I jump up and down with no plans on leaving first base. All my chips are on the speed and agility of the active runner. His cleats dig into the dirt, trailing a dust-filled cyclone from the rapid and strenuous strides. With a thrusting dive and an outstretched arm, he lands on his chest to begin the crucial slide to home plate. The shortstop fires the ball to the catcher! It immediately begins closing the gap! Nail-biting doesn't begin to describe the anxious vibe permeating the stadium. The bench begins to celebrate even before he reaches the plate. Forty thousand cheering fans reach maximum crescendo, filling the air with a glorious sound. Everyone knows how this story will end… My teammate is met by the entire bench as his fingers inch across home plate, instantly followed by the unmistakable motion of the catcher's glove attempting to tag him out—its milliseconds too late. The ump swings his arms outward, officially calling him safe.
By Lamar Wiggins5 days ago in Fiction
Jade Cove
First published in October Hill Magazine, spring, 2022 The cold-water stabs at Rico, penetrating his bones. Wind chops, bites, and claws at his face. The unfamiliar coastline of the Pacific digs out the survival in him. As he floats south with the currents, he drifts back to himself as a child of 12, treading the same trail every day to Don Hilario's vineyard. Back then, he found his endurance by listening to the melody of the ocean, but today, a much louder drum beat down on him:
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