DECEMBER 15, 2012 LEAVE A COMMENT
Jack Silly was a modern-day youngster who lived with her grandmother in a land far far away. His parents were world war 2 bomb casualties when tora tora japanese bombers ravaged their village clean. Fortunately Jack
, a baby then was snatched off to safety by her grandmother when the bombings begun. Unfortunately, his parents were charred victims. The house was completely burned down.
12 years later, their house was rebuilt. They were rich thus the bombings impact was slightly felt. They begun life again, having cattle,
livestock, herds of goat and sheep but then life’s sad irony was too inevitable, a lingering dearth have gradually descended like a slow sweeping decimation. Scarcity become the land’s agony. Slowly the land become desolate as drought have made the land a barren desert. The Silly
family has nowhere to go thus they were stuck to subsist on the meager crops destitution has to offer.
They have none except the still thriving and resilient goat, Jack’s playing buddy he called Vixen and who has served the family in many wonders they has not yet known til that time when the goat’s secret was revealed under the veil of compulsion–the dearth. It was a magical goat of wonder.
Grandma Silly knew, to leave for better pasture was the best option but leaving them stuck she have decided to end their agony. The goat was their last subsistence, inevitably, they have to eat it, then, they got nothing. It would be the point where their was no hope like stuck in a cavern of starkest probability. Only the darkness as their enveloping prison fettered to its loyalty, ultimately, death.
Grandma Silly was sharpening the axe when she ordered, ‘Jack tie Vixen to that dry stump!!!”
Jack responded, ‘Do we have to do this, lala? Vixen is my friend, now that she is too in this drought, why dont we just let her go for her chance to live?”
‘And we?’ piercingly and goggling-eyed, ‘We better die having King’s meal in our belly!!”
Obediently, he tied Vixen, redundantly tapping her head, leaned to her ears and whispered, ‘May God be merciful and spare you tonight.’
The goat instead responded with a thorough ear flapping emotion and with sodden rounded eyes stared at him in conscience-harrowing plea.
‘Dont look at me like that Vix, it makes me want to unleash you!’Jack depressingly drew back, head hung low. Farther, he thought he overheard the goat spoke, ‘Will you eat me, Jack?’
Jack Told his grandma but the old woman shrugged away.
The time of slaughter came. Compulsion was a gravity Jack decided conformingly, they have to survive. He has not the slightest cognition of her grandma’s suicidal dinner.
Tremor-bound as natural for first time butchers having a friend to kill, he proceeded as intended. Reaching the goat he noticed something unusual. The goat’s dung seem to have an unnatural shade as though something bright inside the black coat was giving Vixen’s dung a dark glowing appeal. Slowly with a heavy heart, he rested the axe near the tree stump then using a finger played on the goat, tracing on her rib cage and poking her, in gloomy tease. He heard the goat whispered, ‘Will you eat me?’
Jack’s apathy was bec of his grandma’s angry retort after he bugged her a times, ‘you’re just hallucinating! cannot you see what this damn drought brought to our senses!’
The woman noticed his lameness, ‘Jack if you want to have a better funeral, butcher it now!
From below, he reluctantly shouted, ‘OK!’
Slowly Jack took the axe and theatrically in slow motion appraised it, in its arc motion, but his attention was caught by its glistening splendor as though the axe steel was pure gold. He raised it and was about to drop it when the goat spoke and catapulted him butt first on the ground.
‘Will you kill a friend Jack?’
Sitting on the ground he was mesmerized, ‘VIXEN, YOU TALKED?’
The old woman was upstairs preparing the poison concoction.
The goat let loose a grunt then, ‘Stand up Silly! Vixen will show how you will live!’
Jack was still incredulous, ‘Is this for real?’
The goat commanded, ‘Untie me moron!’
Jack repeated, ‘Are you really talking?’, touching her ear flaps.
The cow kicked him hard.
‘OW? WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?’
Vixen mocked, ‘want another one?’
Jack noticing his grandma’s annoyed approach, excitedly reasoned,’Grandma look,’ pointing to the goat, ‘Vixen talked.’, as the woman was close, he open his palm for some magical revelation, ‘look Vixen’s dung it has magic!’
Incredulous, the OLD woman now in hot temper, snappily growled, ‘VIXEN TALKED? DUNG FOR WHAT?’She tried to snatched it off and slap into his face when the goat stamped on her harshly, then spoke, ‘OLD WOMAN,’ then in captured attention, grandma was goggle-eyed, ‘if you answer my riddle, you’ll survive!’
The goat delivered the riddle, ‘Black it may be, but of the chasm’s depth veiled a throbbing liFESAVER…’
‘I KNOW!’ Jack enthusiastically bellowed and laughing, ‘bean magic!’
the old woman reaching the pinnacle of shock, fainted.
The goat though as by the signal of fate pounded her foot magically as inception to magical succession about to be Jack’s fortune but then that was how life for Jack Silly and grandma turned into fantasy and magical transition have been we now told of as bed time tale, the story of JACK AND THE BEANSTALK.
, a baby then was snatched off to safety by her grandmother when the bombings begun. Unfortunately, his parents were charred victims. The house was completely burned down.
12 years later, their house was rebuilt. They were rich thus the bombings impact was slightly felt. They begun life again, having cattle,
livestock, herds of goat and sheep but then life’s sad irony was too inevitable, a lingering dearth have gradually descended like a slow sweeping decimation. Scarcity become the land’s agony. Slowly the land become desolate as drought have made the land a barren desert. The Silly
family has nowhere to go thus they were stuck to subsist on the meager crops destitution has to offer.
They have none except the still thriving and resilient goat, Jack’s playing buddy he called Vixen and who has served the family in many wonders they has not yet known til that time when the goat’s secret was revealed under the veil of compulsion–the dearth. It was a magical goat of wonder.
Grandma Silly knew, to leave for better pasture was the best option but leaving them stuck she have decided to end their agony. The goat was their last subsistence, inevitably, they have to eat it, then, they got nothing. It would be the point where their was no hope like stuck in a cavern of starkest probability. Only the darkness as their enveloping prison fettered to its loyalty, ultimately, death.
Grandma Silly was sharpening the axe when she ordered, ‘Jack tie Vixen to that dry stump!!!”
Jack responded, ‘Do we have to do this, lala? Vixen is my friend, now that she is too in this drought, why dont we just let her go for her chance to live?”
‘And we?’ piercingly and goggling-eyed, ‘We better die having King’s meal in our belly!!”
Obediently, he tied Vixen, redundantly tapping her head, leaned to her ears and whispered, ‘May God be merciful and spare you tonight.’
The goat instead responded with a thorough ear flapping emotion and with sodden rounded eyes stared at him in conscience-harrowing plea.
‘Dont look at me like that Vix, it makes me want to unleash you!’Jack depressingly drew back, head hung low. Farther, he thought he overheard the goat spoke, ‘Will you eat me, Jack?’
Jack Told his grandma but the old woman shrugged away.
The time of slaughter came. Compulsion was a gravity Jack decided conformingly, they have to survive. He has not the slightest cognition of her grandma’s suicidal dinner.
Tremor-bound as natural for first time butchers having a friend to kill, he proceeded as intended. Reaching the goat he noticed something unusual. The goat’s dung seem to have an unnatural shade as though something bright inside the black coat was giving Vixen’s dung a dark glowing appeal. Slowly with a heavy heart, he rested the axe near the tree stump then using a finger played on the goat, tracing on her rib cage and poking her, in gloomy tease. He heard the goat whispered, ‘Will you eat me?’
Jack’s apathy was bec of his grandma’s angry retort after he bugged her a times, ‘you’re just hallucinating! cannot you see what this damn drought brought to our senses!’
The woman noticed his lameness, ‘Jack if you want to have a better funeral, butcher it now!
From below, he reluctantly shouted, ‘OK!’
Slowly Jack took the axe and theatrically in slow motion appraised it, in its arc motion, but his attention was caught by its glistening splendor as though the axe steel was pure gold. He raised it and was about to drop it when the goat spoke and catapulted him butt first on the ground.
‘Will you kill a friend Jack?’
Sitting on the ground he was mesmerized, ‘VIXEN, YOU TALKED?’
The old woman was upstairs preparing the poison concoction.
The goat let loose a grunt then, ‘Stand up Silly! Vixen will show how you will live!’
Jack was still incredulous, ‘Is this for real?’
The goat commanded, ‘Untie me moron!’
Jack repeated, ‘Are you really talking?’, touching her ear flaps.
The cow kicked him hard.
‘OW? WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?’
Vixen mocked, ‘want another one?’
Jack noticing his grandma’s annoyed approach, excitedly reasoned,’Grandma look,’ pointing to the goat, ‘Vixen talked.’, as the woman was close, he open his palm for some magical revelation, ‘look Vixen’s dung it has magic!’
Incredulous, the OLD woman now in hot temper, snappily growled, ‘VIXEN TALKED? DUNG FOR WHAT?’She tried to snatched it off and slap into his face when the goat stamped on her harshly, then spoke, ‘OLD WOMAN,’ then in captured attention, grandma was goggle-eyed, ‘if you answer my riddle, you’ll survive!’
The goat delivered the riddle, ‘Black it may be, but of the chasm’s depth veiled a throbbing liFESAVER…’
‘I KNOW!’ Jack enthusiastically bellowed and laughing, ‘bean magic!’
the old woman reaching the pinnacle of shock, fainted.
The goat though as by the signal of fate pounded her foot magically as inception to magical succession about to be Jack’s fortune but then that was how life for Jack Silly and grandma turned into fantasy and magical transition have been we now told of as bed time tale, the story of JACK AND THE BEANSTALK.
That night they planted the bean seeds extracted from the goat’s black dung. Magically, it have grown gigantically reaching to the golden kingdom up in the clouds where innumerable wealth would then enrich Jack so as was told in fairy tale books.
But for that night, they dined in giant bean seeds.
MORAL OF THE STORY: DESPISE NOT THE DESPICABLE IN THEIR FILTH, BEC WITHIN THEM MIGHT BE SOMETHING THAT IN THE FUTURE WOULD BE TO YOU A LIFESAVER…
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