Ben - Chapter Twenty Eight

As the great steel bird straightflyers extended as they had before, they grew larger, smellier and whiter as today followed to the seemingly infinite and introuvable next day, tomorrow.

Tomorrow seemed like a mystery to Ben, which was as odd turn of events because among his many talents, he could string a grateful sheep while playing it at the same time. The sheep in this forest relished having their grasscrushers cleaned with such precision. A well digested summer meal was a treat.

As Ben drew nearer, the soil changed colour and began to give more, as if each grain has been disturbed by some event, or had perhaps left its station like a drunk soldier after a victory parade. Something had certainly happened here or nearby.

The sense of change was hanging in the air the the smell of something different beckoned closeness. It was ready to spill its secrets, like a naughty child holding a note behind a worn chair. Whereas before, solid and packed. Whereas now, loose and lazy. Puddles interspersed.

Ben, consuming more water in his old age, decried his bladder but felt the necessity to stoop down and cautiously nose the water. A deep sniff through the facial airholes confirmed goodness, trust and safety. Ben snorted and lapped, sensing each drop might be his last.