Ben - Chapter Thirty Two

As the water gushed across the scoured land, it told its story and didn’t skip a beat. The ground had enough but mother water was not one to give and she always had her way. The ground couldn’t complain to much, being solid and so the bearer.

Ben sat nonchalantly chewing on a twig, to pick an unfortunate earwig out of such - both Ben’s favourite activities. His front-pearlies were due a sanding and a wash soon. A rabbit with unkempt teeth played ragged tunes, even without the singing mouthpipe. This was a large taboo in the forest, much worse than stepping on a gentleman magpie as they slept, reminiscing of fieldmice.

Ben would need to wait until the morning for the water to be safe to cross. He placed himself well-hidden as he waited for the forest-belchers to drown out the peaceful birdsong and fill the air with their cacophony and dreadful putrid song. A daily offense even greater than that of playing pipes with unclean teeth.

Ben, being of ten steps in mind, had already fashioned out some waterskippers from the wings of retired red back wasps. These were amenable, sucked on honey and would shed their wings for excellent prices - usually a mountain song and a bowl of porridge drizzled in honey and cinnamon.

Ben slept soundly, pondering on the next journey through time and space. The next day, and what it would bring.