Not based on true events

With an exalted leap, the fly again fixed his eyes upon the vine, and yes, indeed, it was not as tight against the flower’s stalk. Then, little by little, beginning at its tip, it peeled away like a petal, round and round the stalk, unscrewing and unwinding, and collapsing until it finally fell flat on the ground. At that auspicious time, Syrphid let out the loudest cheer possible for a fly, a cheer which you and I could faintly hear, and the sunflower trembled all over with repressed joy. The next day was even more thrilling, for the vine had now passed her, and was winding away through grasses before her. Finally, in a week’s time, its tip had vanished in the distance, and was never seen again. The next day, the sunflower who had so aided her wild cousin in her distress was visited by a certain hoverfly, who brought with him an offering of a small seed which he dropped near her, and it blossomed and bloomed, and the sunflower was never lonely again.

Not based on true events

That day, Syrphid arrived to discover a distressed flower. Upon first sight of him, she cried out desperately, “Oh, Syrphid! What am I to do? Make haste to the other sunflower and ask her what I should do! Hurry!” Not one moment was lost on the hoverfly’s account and with freshly rested wings, he turned in a split second, and whizzed away with the voice of the sunflower echoing behind him. What was to be done? How could a rambling vine be stopped? Would he lose his flower friend forever? All these doubts, and many others crowded upon his mind as he sped away, but one thought rose uppermost: he would make sure the vine came no further. It was an anxious morning for the sunflower, and she drooped as she wondered if Syrphid would only arrive in the evening, when it might be too late. But then she remembered the advice of the sunflower far away, and she arose and spread herself out in the sunlight, and she felt strengthened, and the vine beneath her slowed its course in her shade. The sun rose up higher in the sky, and warmed all the earth, and before the sunflower realized, it was noon and the earth was happy. The flower no longer quailed at the thought of the lengthy wait before her. She had shut her eyes and though she felt the vine wind about her slowly, she was at peace. Suddenly, through this peace, a voice was heard. “ Sunflower! Sunflower! Hurry!” She reopened her eyes and beheld the fly hovering closer than ever to her face, zipping here and there in earnest energy. “Hurry! Join your leaves! Make sure that not a sliver of sunlight passes them! This is what she said! Hurry!” It took a moment for the sunflower to comprehend his rushed words, but when she did, she immediately knitted the shadows of her leaves together so that all about her feet was a circle of gloom. Syrphid, in the meantime, buzzed eagerly about this increasing shadow and alerted her of any sunny sliver which she missed. Whenever he passed the vine which was already partially up her stalk, he cried out: “ Go pick on someone your own size!” and abused it loudly. After all, it was a small vine compared with the sunflower. Finally, the task was complete, and all there was to do was wait. Syrphid landed upon one of the sunflower’s leaves and peered over at the vine. No movement could be seen. An hour passed, and still no result. The hoverfly turned to his friend and inquired if she felt any difference in the vine’s grip. “ N-no,” said she, “ It is what it was like before.” The fly gave a tiny, sad sigh, and again  looked at the vine, but even as he did so, the sunflower stirred, and he gazed again at her. “Wait,” she said, “ I can feel it loosening!”

To be continued...

Not based on true events

She always faced the glorious gold of the sun, this sunflower, alone in a vast field of swaying grass. And though the rays of light were dimming and the leaves turning she always retained a cheerful countenance within the ring of cotton-soft petals. She simply glowed with joy, and though it is not always the case with such people, she had many friends. One of these, in fact, was a black-striped yellow hoverfly named Syrphid who brought her tidings from afar every morning. Most of what he said would be no interest to you and me, except for one. In the early dawn he came, and woke the drooping sunflower. “ Wake up! Wake up!” said he until the she raised her weary head, “ I wanted to be the first to tell you: there’s a garden being grown some miles from here, and guess what’s in it!” “ A garden?” returned the sunflower mildly, “ Is it a flower garden?” “ Yes, it is!” burst out the hoverfly, “ And there is only one sunflower within it, and she told me herself that she is rather lonely. Is there any news you could tell her?” The sunflower cocked her head at this question and pondered all that had recently occurred in that sunlit field, which was not much. But suddenly, she raised her head and declared that a new vine was creeping into it. Barely had the words left her mouth when the fly buzzed off, and swiftly disappeared in the distance. During the cool evening, he returned with the tidings that he had passed on the message to the other sunflower and that she had replied to grow high and mighty and not permit the vine to creep up the other’s stalk. “ A bound plant is a sorry plant,” the other sunflower had said upon hearing these tidings from Syrphid. The field sunflower immediately put to action the advice, and raised her head higher than ever to the glorious sun, and spread her leaves as much as she could to receive her presents. And not an evening too soon, for, when she awoke the following morning she felt a tickle at her verdant feet, and looking down, beheld to her horror the vine at her feet. “ A non-native too!” she exclaimed, “I should have known.” 

To be continued...

Not based on true events

 What else could that tickled lion do but laugh, and fall helplessly to the ground with a roaring guffaw. This is why the lioness had to put two paws over her grinning features, but could she have contained herself for one second more? Yes, only for one second, before she tumbled about like the others in a wave of merriment. Her companion looked upon her aghast as giggles began to ripple through the pride. Then she looked all about at the strained faces, and commented quite coolly “Isn’t laughter supposed to be contagious?” And I am afraid that all restraint left every lion in the funeral and they turned into topsy-turvy, hollering hyenas. I am afraid some villagers heard the ruckus from afar, and thought that the world was ending, for the lions had gone mad! Everything concerning the funeral was completely forgotten, every tear was dried, every long face shortened,  and every frown now stood on its head. That is, until another voice rose in laughter, and every lion froze on the spot and turned towards it in amazement, for who was it but the very lioness they had thought was dead. There she stood, grinning away,and all because of that raving, rolling, laughing, stamping lunatic of a spotted hyena called Phil.

Not based on true events

There was a very amusing animal in Northentity the other day, an animal with a twinkle in its eye and a bounce in its bound, and a rather cheerful outlook on life. And the name of the animal was Phil, and his company was generally appreciated. Unfortunately, upon the day of which I speak, it was not. No, not at all, not when it was a funeral day for the lions of the area. I am afraid that a female from the pride had received a rather nasty kick from a frightened gazelle during the hunt, and she had expired from this wound during the night. Now, all her companions, family and friends stood in a sombre circle about her and wept throaty wails. But even as they did so, what should sound but a chuckle from without the circle and before any could stop him, Phil had pushed his way through it and looked upon the lioness. “Well, well, well!” exclaimed he, “That lioness will be giving the gazelle no more trouble, I warrant. I should tell him that.” And he burst into a warble of laughter. The leader of the pride immediately shot a most severe glance at the undignified intruder who only cried out: “ I should tell his calves that too!” And the cheeky culprit fell down and rolled about in a shriek of merriment, and pounded the floor and kicked the air with his paws, much like an insane dog. By this time, all composure was loosening in the grassy funeral parlour. One lioness whispered to another: “ I don’t see what’s so funny.” The reply was most unfortunate: “I don’t think the fool knows himself.” The first lioness immediately stifled a laugh. The other, though, looked most severely at her and asked what was the matter with her, and pointed out that she was no longer a cub and should control herself. “ I am trying, I am trying,” said the poor lioness in a muffled tone, for she had her paw before her mouth. Very soon, though, she had two paws before her mouth, for, the leader had most unwisely attempted to bat the gaily hollering Phil from the ring, only to make the silly critter cry in laughter all the louder. Finally, the lion lost all patience and pounced upon the intruder, only to feel Phil’s naughty paw pads tickling his own enormous belly.

To be continued...