Thursday, September 24, 2009

Tales from a Suburban Backyard

In the garden, beneath the comforting shade of a grand old walnut tree, stood a tiny little tree named Shidare. She was a very pretty little Japanese maple, and she was very happy, because it was a beautiful Autumn day and her lacey red leaves fluttered gently in the cool afternoon breeze.

She was hoping that someone would come by, to see how pretty she looked, when she heard an odd sound from above. It started up high in Mr. Walnut and it made a swooshing, rustling noise that got closer and closer and so loud that Shidare became frightened and then her favorite branch was ripped clean away from her trunk and she began to cry.

“Please don’t cry, little Shidare,” said Mr. Walnut. “I am very sorry one of my walnuts fell from such a terrible height and hurt you, but you are young, and you are still very pretty, and now you will grow taller in the Springtime so that everyone in the garden can see you!”

Shidare brightened at the thought, and she set her mind to the serious task of forming callus tissue to close off her wound thus guarding against viral, bacterial and fungal infection. And she hoped that someday soon, Mr. Squirrel would fall out of Mr. Walnut and dash his brains out all over Mr. Rock, who was sitting right there beside her.



Meade said...
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Meade said...

...thus guarding against viral, bacterial and fungal infection.

I'm sorry Mr. Bissage but this story is very mean and racist.

Pathogens are people too you know.

All they want is to be loved.

Is that so wrong?

Think about it.

Bissage said...

All they want is to be loved.

That was exactly my position on the subject, back in the day.

The tests came back negative, but only after the physician at the clinic shoved a cotton swab all the way in there.

So far as I'm concerned, it was the pathogens who got the last laugh.

Meade said...

Mr. Bissage,

I was mistaken. I can see now that I was backing the wrong team.

And when I say wrong team, I mean wrong as in nothing right in any way, shape, or form. (Actually shape and form are one and the same but I'm sure you already knew that. Like, way knew that.)

Anyhoo... Sure pathogens want love. Sure pathogens are people too. They're BAD people who want bad love in a bad way.

I'm sorry they hurt you, my old friend. You didn't deserve that. Not one bit.

Consider my position to be one hundred and eighty degrees changed, please accept my apology, and, if you will, I hope you'll consider letting me back on the team. The good guy team.

Quickly and without warning,