I recently had trouble fitting into my jogging shoes. So I'm writing this short story about the feeling everyone goes through when they can't fit into their favourite clothes or gear. Oh, and I dedicate this to Ara, for encouraging me and just for fun.
The steady thumps of his footsteps were muffled by the fallen leaves strewn all across the forest floor. It was mushroom season. And as a tradition in his family everyone had to go and pick as many edible mushrooms in the Lickle Forest. The mushrooms would then be cooked over a roaring fire and served as a feast.
He grumbled silently to himself. Who cares about mushrooms and traditions. All this time he could be doing more profitable things like video taping birds in the sky. He gingerly splash across a stream. Now his shoes was stained. His favourite shoes which were woven from scratch by his beloved grandmother. Mushrooms, mushrooms and mushrooms. Stupid umbrella shaped -Was that a crunchycornyshroom?
The purplish green mushroom was rarely spotted in the area and some say it had magical powers that could do who knows what. And there it was, lying just beside a clump of bamboo plants. There were a few tapioca plants nearby, too. If he managed to dig out the tubers, his family was in for a feast like no other. Anyway, the crunchy-something-shroom stood there harmless and beautiful.
He tiptoed nearer and touched it. Murderous pain burned every single cell in him and his clothes started to rip. His shoes were disintegrated. His gloves lay in shreds on the damp ground. He was now taller than the trees. He could just make out his mother sitting idly beside the barbecue pit where the mushrooms were suppose to be roasted. Suddenly, his body stopped expanding. He was probably thousands of feet tall. Shoes, clothes everything all thorn. Well, at least he had a nice birds eye view from up here.
Yea I know it's lame, but I'm in a rush you see. So enjoy reading and have a good hols.
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