Ben - Chapter Twenty Nine

The evening was drawing to a close and the giant bears were unleashing their usual cacophony to the trees. The billowiggs rattles in unison, streaking their distressed but beautiful colours across this scene.

Ben sat steadfast and took a large thirsty swig from his bottle of sky juice. Its freshness guaranteed satisfaction and a delayed squirt from the back end, but emulating the tall standing belchbeasts would need to suffice, if only to provide light entertainment from these aforementioned distressheads and their beaming behinds.

The smell of sun dried turnips filled the air. Ben had recently discovered this golden haul and had become complacent, seemingly engorging himself on these mini rabbit delights. One would not pass up such, for it would be the skeletal rabbit who turned their noses up at a tasty opportunity.

Using a fork fashioned from twigs and stones, Ben could hollow out the innards of anything he could find, and turn it into a meal, a shelter and maybe even a boat. His old hands held together fastidious despite years of crippling bonebabbles. His musical skills were unprecedented, if unheard. His mind played no tricks.

Filling his cardigan with the remnants, Ben would sleep soundly, always keeping his trusty fork on hand should he need to poke a wandering mega bear where light cannot reach. Ben slid into a satisfying sleep and dreamed of metal tapping rain.