In a sun-dappled meadow, a spider named Esmeralda meticulously spun her web. Each strand was a work of art, glistening with morning dew and catching the light like a thousand tiny diamonds. Esmeralda was a weaver of intricate patterns, her web a masterpiece of engineering designed to trap unsuspecting prey.
One day, a fly named Buzz, known for his reckless buzzing and disregard for danger, came zooming through the meadow. He spotted a patch of juicy berries dangling from a nearby bush and, with his usual lack of foresight, darted straight towards it.
Unbeknownst to Buzz, he was flying right into Esmeralda's meticulously crafted web. He felt a tug, a sticky sensation, and suddenly found himself dangling upside down, his wings entangled in the shimmering threads.
Buzz buzzed with frustration, thrashing wildly against the web, only making his situation worse. He saw Esmeralda approaching, her eight beady eyes glinting with anticipation.
"Well, well, well," Esmeralda said in a silky voice. "Looks like someone didn't see the danger signs."
Buzz, realizing his predicament, adopted a more conciliatory tone. "Oh, wise weaver," he buzzed pathetically. "Please, I meant no harm. I was simply in a hurry to reach those delicious berries."
Esmeralda paused, considering him. "Delicious berries, you say? Perhaps we can strike a deal."
Buzz's hope flickered. "A deal? What kind of deal?"
"I will spare your life," Esmeralda declared, "if you sing a song for me. I haven't heard a decent melody in ages."
Buzz, relieved at this unexpected turn of events, puffed out his tiny chest. "Leave it to me!" he buzzed confidently. "I can sing a song that will make your eight legs tap!"
And so, Buzz, dangling upside down, sang his heart out. He buzzed about the beauty of the meadow, the sweetness of flowers, and the joy of flight. Esmeralda, captivated by his performance, swayed gently to the rhythm.
When Buzz finished his song, the meadow echoed with a moment of silence. Then, to Buzz's surprise, Esmeralda began to unwind the web, strand by strand, freeing him from his sticky prison.
"You have a beautiful voice, little fly," Esmeralda conceded. "And perhaps a song is sweeter than even the juiciest berry."
Buzz, wings buzzing with newfound freedom, thanked Esmeralda profusely and zoomed off towards the berry bush. He never forgot the lesson learned that day: sometimes, a well-timed song can be more valuable than a careless dash for a fleeting treat.
And so, the fable teaches us that even the most cunning predators can be swayed by the power of art and the value of unexpected connections. It's a reminder that sometimes, the sweetest rewards come from the most unlikely sources.
About the Creator
Six Feet Under
Buried alive. What a horrible way to go. Yazz lay there, in her own thoughts. What else could she do? She was hungry, thirsty, tired, mentally, and physically exhausted, and more than anything, she was bored. She hoped she would die of boredom before anything else, anything else would've been more painful. Like many people had, she and her friends had talked about what they reckon the worst ways to die were, it was a morbid subject, but it came up every now and again. Yazz had always been one to argue her point on drowning, others had mentioned burning alive, slowly and painfully bleeding to death, hung drawn and quartered, and being starved to death. It was strange that none of them had considered being buried alive, it had never come up. But now, she was thinking back to those conversations her and her friends had had, how could they have not thought about it? It took a lot longer than the others, you were completely confined, you couldn't move or do anything, you just had to wait, until your body was physically unable to support a life system anymore, which could take up to four days. Four! By far the longest out of all of them. She recounted some of these conversations just to try and pass the time, anything to pass the time. It was difficult to know how much time had passed since she had been underground, it was difficult to know anything. There were many things that Yazz didn't know, she didn't know where she was, she didn't know how she'd got into the coffin, she'd just woken up there. Yazz also didn't know what time it was, or even what day it was, she guessed at Tuesday, it was Sunday evening when she'd been buried alive, intentionally, and although it had felt like weeks had passed, she was still alive, which means she hadn't died from dehydration, and therefore it couldn't have been more than four days.
By Liam Storm3 days ago in Fiction
Lost and found
In the bustling streets of a quaint town named Willowbrook, where the cobblestones echoed with the whispers of stories untold, there lived a young woman named Elara. Elara was known for her adventurous spirit and her knack for finding hidden treasures in the most unlikely places. However, little did she know that her next discovery would unravel a mystery that had been buried for centuries.
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Comments (2)
You are telling great stories!! 💕
Wow it is wonderful. I liked the engineer Esmeralda.