Ben - Chapter Seventeen

Ben scratched the dirt with his legs as he rose from his two day slumber, as if being pulled from his world of dreams and into this even stranger and more interesting reality.

The thoughts of this vast steel tube in the distance, with two speckled and resigned stubs pointing out from it, glued to the ground and consumed by fire. With what was once theirs strewn to the ground. These thoughts and their many counterparts did good to hide the malfeasance a passing fox had dropped from his behind some hours before - still warm and ripening.

Fetching his war weary spectacles, Ben slowly rose, as if to recreate the loading of a medieval trebuchet, and continued on his fraught journey. Ben was not one to be shy of consuming some earwigs in the absence of his rather favourite, black turnips. Tapping slowly along he went, necking a few on the way for his day.

The light attrition of drizzle continued on and the weather had been cooler of late. This was a smart relief for all mammals young and old. The wasps would need to go into hiding from the Dancing Winter Fox. The ground would be consumed by the white in the time it took for the moon to be a full circle.