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Paradise Drowned


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Paradise Drowned

by DesDownUnder

Lost in the thicket of tangled weeds, he looked left and right before he crossed the highway that led to the treasure trail of his hopes and dreams.

He did not know if the rumours were correct, but he had been told that down south, there were forests that could support him in native pleasures beyond anything he could imagine.

The ground began to shake, shudder and quake as giant objects seem to seek him out, but he dug in and held on to a lone vine on the vast plain around him.

When the quake had stopped, he swung from the vine, sliding down its length till he landed softly on top of paradise; the land of thick bushes hiding treasures of hidden burrows and folds in which he could make his home. Tired after his journey, he settled down to sleep in the warmth of the land.

Suddenly he was awakened by the rain turning his new found home into a river. The bushes in which he hid took on the appearance of a rain forest and a huge bulldozer denaturalised his Amazonian habitat into a desert of tiny stumps. A tsunami of foamy waves picked him up, and he was flung into the air landing in swirling pool of water. His end was near and as he disappeared beneath the torrid waters, he found himself wondering, who knew that crabs could drown?

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Ha! :icon_thumright:

...if you'd married your flash with Dabeagle's post about Manscaping (with 'slap it all over' Veet for men) - then mister crabby would have been chemically romanced, had his comeuppance, and his family wouldn't have anywhere to hide. :flasher[1]:

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:laughs: What was he talking about? :angel:

Tiny crustaceans. No, don't let it be so.

Really, I can't recommend a lawnmower or a scythe for that.

Des, you Nair-do-well!

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  • 2 weeks later...

The first autobiographical flash fiction post I have ever seen. Thank you, Des.

Chris, 90% of my stuff is autobiographical. I don't really have the imagination to do pure fiction, and only manage to enhance (embellish) my reality somewhat.

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Chris, 90% of my stuff is autobiographical. I don't really have the imagination to do pure fiction, and only manage to enhance (embellish) my reality somewhat.

Well they say truth is stranger than fiction...so what seems to be the problem? I think that most of us include details of our lives in the stories, and fortunately no one knows what is fiction. I'll never tell. :listen:

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