Collection of very short stories
The Being Trapped In Paradise's Prison
It walked through the forest, gazing in wonder. It had never seen such an enchanting but sinister place. Looking up, it saw the tall spires of wood and leaves, and it saw no end to the trunks in the distance as it tilted its head down to look forwards. Nearby was a small stream, a soft gurgling sound emitted from the twisting path of water that joined in the chorus of creaking trees. It walked over to the stream. Sitting down, it looked over the water. It saw its muzzled face, it saw the dark green fur and four appendages, maybe they were legs to the creature or maybe they were something else. Finished looking at itself, it turned its attention to the stream, admiring the polished rocks and small creatures within the streams constantly moving water. It stood up on its legs, if it had any. The creature realized it had forgotten what it was, and who it was. It began to ponder its thoughts, thinking as hard as it could, trying, trying desperately to remember why it was walking through the forest. Any memory would be welcomed by the creature, and a memory it got, a small sliver of a memory about a small town. This town had lots of creatures with four legs, large eyes, some with horns, some with wings, and some just had bare backs to accompany their neon and sometimes duller colored fur.
This never ending forest, this forest of wonders, sights, and smells. For hours it walked, but to no avail, as there was no signs of any civilization, at least what it considered civilization. It could barely remember the scrap of memory it still held, a memory of that small town, full of those smiling creatures going about their business during the day. It tried to remember the feeling of happiness at a fast pink shape that was just a bit too close. It tried to remember a time that it was not in the forest other than that quick blur, but that was all that remained in its mind besides the forest. Excluding the odd animal sighted through the brush or flying in between the trees, it was alone, alone in this forever forest of enchanting trees and chirping birds. It was too beautiful to describe the woods, but at the same time it was dark and sinister, as its foliage covered most of the sky, only allowing some rays of sun to enter but enough to see everything. Its trunks going farther than its eye could see and casting shadows over everything.
Eventually it realized that it had not eaten in days and it panicked, it knew it should eat something, anything to prevent hunger. It went to look for food, but it could not find anything. It looked for anything that looked remotely edible, but all it saw were the regal trees, swaying in the breeze of the cloudless sky, it saw the brush rustling from the flee of a spooked animal hiding within it moments before. It began to realize while looking for food, that it could hear animals. Not just the animal moving, but their thoughts and feelings, a sense it had not had before it came to the forest. It pondered this newfound power for an unknown amount of time, and came to a conclusion. It deemed the power useless, as it could not talk to the animals in response nor use the foreign thoughts itself. After a longer span of time, it realized that it might not have to even eat, as it felt no hunger gnawing on its stomach, no dryness in its throat nor mouth. So it looked around itself, looking about the forest and all that came with it. Chose a random direction, and started its endless journey through the never ending woods. A few times, it had the idea to climb a tree to get a vantage point as to which way to go, and it spent days and nights wandering and looking for what seemed to be the highest tree around at the time. But when it climbed the tree it would find, at the tip when it looked past the branches, it only saw more tree trunks. It was as if the trees around the being climbed the sky with it, keeping the being from finding reference, from finding somewhere to go after the timeless amount of walking.
Seasons came and went, so many seasons, a four sequence loop on repeat forever. It never payed attention to the freezing cold of the winter months, it didn't seek shelter as it didn't even feel any temperature at all. Nor did it pay attention to the the raging thunderstorms of spring, thunderhead clouds sending spikes of electricity and light flashing the darkness away for sparse seconds. It never bat an eye at the raging heat and dryness of the summer months, just walking through the dry brush and the humid air. It never even stopped to gaze at the beautiful show of colors that the tree put on during autumn, it never paid attention to the falling of leaves, bringing the temperature down with them as they fell. All of these beautiful events and happenings never caught the eye of the being, it was just looking for a way out of this paradise, out of this prison of beautiful wood.
This was why it walked for centuries, never aging, never tiring, never resting, just looking for somewhere where it would find another speaking being to confide in. The being was frighteningly sane, it wanted nothing more than to find relief from this endless beauty, even if that relief came from madness. As such is the reason it walked till what seemed to be the end of time, and then it kept walking ever farther. After the countless years it stopped even thinking, still not even going mad, it's thought process just slowed down as it realized it was never getting out. This lead to it slowly having less thoughts, and eventually the being just stopped thinking. If anything found it now, they would have difficulty having it just look at them, much less actually getting it to talk or respond to their calls. It has become a moving statue in an endless garden. It just kept walking, hoping desperately to get out of the endless wooden prison but soon after, even that hope disappeared, leaving just a walking husk, a hollow shell of whatever it was, of whatever it could have been, and so it remained. The walking shell of a creature, forever trekking through the prison paradise.
Author's Note
An edited version of a small story I had already written a year ago, although now its edited and posted here after adding a few hundred words to it.
Collection of very short stories
The sky seemed to crack open as thunder sounded. The booming voice of the sky rang in your ears. Dark clouds covered the sky as far as you could see, setting the world into darkness. And a good thing it did too, the increasing solar power from the sun caused it to become a deadly incinerator. Every now and then a small ray of sun burst from the clouds oppressive blanket and hit the ground. In a matter of seconds you watch and a patch on a hill not too far away dries and catches fire and sends off a wave of heat you could feel all the way from where you were standing. Most of earth by now was like this, dry, barren, and unforgivably hot. But you, by some miracle while wandering the land, came across an area where the clouds were particularly thick. A lot of the plant life was still alive, but of course, there were still flares that escaped and destroyed the ground beneath them. Another thundering boom, this time powerful enough to shake the ground beneath you, vibrations going up your body, making you stumble. Lightning was much more common with the increase in solar levels, you didn't know why and you don't think anyone else knows.
That is, if there is anyone else. You have begun to feel as if there is no other humans alive in the world. You have only seen one, but that was more that 8 years ago, and when you got closer to him he got caught in a solar beam and died instantly. You continue you life in this one area with enough plant life to provide food and oxygen. But the inevitable does happen, after years upon years, the area of woods and life slowly dissipated and disintegrated under the suns harsh rays. After about 40 years or less, or more, you don't know which since you lost your sense of date and years.
At that point you had forgotten what lush forest looks like, what a small pond in the center of a large forest smells and feels like. You forget what life in the suns calming rays filtering through the leafs was like. You forget what your own voice sounded like after not using it for decades. After a few more years you encounter what had been the inevitable since the suns rays had started to burn the ground beneath its unending gaze. There was no plant life left, and almost no animal life at all either. You traveled for even more years, living off whatever you could find in the wastelands. Constantly walking but there was not even an ocean in sight for you all of that time you spent, not a lush forest, not a small stream. The world was a dry, unforgiving death trap, waiting for its next victim. You had also never seen another intelligent being the rest of your life, you had noticed that there were more and more flares through the clouds as life went on. And eventually you saw as the cloud layers started to dissipate, unable to continue protecting the earth from the sun. You were even amazed at how long the clouds lasted with the beams of heat on them every day. You stand up from you resting space, watch as the leftover clouds disappear, as the planet is engulfed by the sun, incinerating anything that might have lived anywhere. As you feel yourself fading away into the distance.
As the last cloud leaves, as the last hope disappears, you finally fall with the rest of the planet.
