The mole named Clarence

If I hadn't been sick I would have given this declamation yesterday. The assignment was to write a fable. Here 'tis:

There was once a mole named Clarence. He was a fat, nearsighted (but not quite blind), ugly mole. And when he talked (as he was wont to do) he whistled. In all of these respects, he was quite like his other mole friends. None of them were particularly good looking, but that didn’t tend to matter. The only peculiar thing about him was that he was afraid of being underground. Human psychologists would say that he was claustrophobic, but the moles, who had never encountered such an illness, just thought that he was odd. One day Clarence had enough of being afraid, and he started to dig up rather than down. He did not spend long in this endeavour before he found himself, for the first time, above ground. It was ecstasy finally being in the fresh air, and for a few moments he was truly happy. Unfortunately, being so nearsighted he inadvertently wandered into the busy highway next to his hole. I’m sorry to announce that Clarence died. The moral of this story is that there are usually far worse things to be afraid of, so mole up.

I give some props

The esteemed Tyler Antkowiak has written a short story. There's two or three instances of mild  profanity, so if you feel up to it, read it here. 

Did I mention that it was incredible? Oh yeah . . . so, it's incredible. Wonderful storytelling, and an awesome idea for a story (props for that to Ty's little sister). The way he tells the story, especially at the beginning, makes you identify with the narrator and makes the story much more intense and effective. Enjoy. 

The 100th issueversary- The Anemic Muskrat

Here we are ladies and gentlemen. This is, indeed, a momentous occasion. I have a few words to say (in the form of a fable) in commemoration of our hundredth post. Here goes:

There was once a very scared muskrat. He didn't have any particular reason to be scared, except that a voracious dog was chasing him. The poor anemic thing. That's right, the muskrat is anemic. Is there no justice in the world? Not that we should blame the dog either; he was hungry (and anorexic). When seeing the muskrat the dog couldn't help but defecate. . . uh, I mean salivate. So, the dog was chasing the poor muskrat all around in circles and the muskrat became all lightheaded (because he's anemic) and fainted. Well, this didn't please the dog. He was hungry, but not hungry enough to eat something that had fainted. You see, the dog always did this. He was always making excuses for not eating something. So, he just returned to his own vomit, I mean kennel. The muskrat lived to bleed another day.

Moral: Better look before you read next time. Ha Ha Ha!