Ben - Chapter Twenty One

Given skipping was tiring for an old foot, this one was no exception and it was time to settle for the evening and prepare a stead of nourishment and rest. These old feet were hardened and matted with several spans, stories and ground underfoot. If those paws could talk.

The sky was clear but quieter at this particular time, but where sound was absent, the light made up for it in all spectra of colour.

Ben gently placed his derrière on the ground and settled his tail like a chauffeur delivering their seedy boss to a tall building. Once settled, he tapped a protruding silver box from his pocket, teasing it out before carefully opening it. A few dried earwigs would be uniting in his stomach. Ben chewed slowly and with tomato relish.

Looking from his perch, Ben observed the forest asleep but teeming with life. The stars, shining brightly, kept a sense of awake across. Naughty crickets would emanate en masse but could not keep the harmony from resting. Even asleep, life was alive and awake. The forest never slept.

All mechanical beasts were left behind. The tall two-legged smokeburpers were nowhere to be seen. Overhanging trees let whisker blades of sunlight through but otherwise maintained mystery. Gurgles of water ran clear. This was as far from danger Ben could be. As close to serenity as an unused dishcloth.

Ben cleared a bushel in the grass as if to form a makeshift head holder, then proceeded to count crickets. His eyes mechanically lowered as he reached one hundred, then they gave up and sealed within them more dreams of large metals.

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.