Last October the world experienced a phenomenon: THE HARE was born. Looking back over the past year, JACK, GEORGE and every one of the forest chums are proud of what they’ve achieved and the things they’ve learned about the world, each other and how the past can teach us lessons for the future.
And one year on there’s no need to stop! To celebrate this anniversary special, we invited A HUMAN MAN to star in our fable this month. He looks somewhat like a Nepalese Monk, and has a story to share regarding a particularly irksome fly he had the gross misfortune to happen upon some time ago…
“Good day to you all, my HARE-loving friends, it’s a pleasure to be here but my presence depends, on the telling of tales, intended to leave, a message with you that lives and that breathes. It is true that I have a story to tell; it possess a moral that I live by as well, I hope it will be of some use to you, and that the things I say will stick like with you like glue…
“One day as I sat in a field made of grass, thinking of things and watching life pass, a buzzing occurred that roused me from dreams, I tried to ignore it, but ‘twas worse than a scream. Without any warning a fly did alight, on the top of my head – O, what a fright! Perhaps you have noticed I’ve no hair on my head (because I slept for a week and it stuck to my bed).
“Bald as I am and exposed to the fly, I must now admit I feared I would die, when I heard his mad laughter; glimpsed the glint in his eye, I was so afraid of that troublesome fly. ‘What is your business?’ I cried to the bug, ‘I’m here to annoy you,’ he said; sounding quite smug. In a second or less he bared his white fangs, and a brief moment later, I felt a sharp pang.
“‘My head, ow my head – you’ve bitten me, fly! Why would you do that? Why, o why, why?’ But he didn’t respond, he just laughed in my face, I decided right then he’d be put in his place. I got up from the ground and fetched me a paper: I’d be the one to end this sad caper! I searched for the fly for the next seven days, when I found him at last he’d not changed his ways.
“He was buzzing around and biting my friends: it was high time he met, with the stickiest end. But before I could get a clean shot at him, he scythed through the crowd with vigour and vim. Once more he did land on the top of my head, and bit me so hard I wished he was dead. I slapped at the fly that was sat on my head, but he dodged it and I hit my forehead instead.
“Again he did crow and then said to me; ‘You have now caused yourself a worse injury. You, who wished upon me demise, has learned that revenge is never that wise. You have been hurt, and doubly so, and I have escaped and away now I’ll go.’‘Little fly you’re a beast and I do not regret, attempting to kill for you’ll be smote yet. I would gladly have suffered a worse fate by far, if I could ensure you’d be trapped in a jar. You’re a menace and terror and no one deserves to bleed by the fangs of one so perverse.’
“And so he flew off into the night sky, and there I remained glad that I tried, to rid other men of that troublesome beast, that enjoyed our blood like a feast. Although I suffered in place of the fly, to free the world of pain I would willingly die.”
Pick up THE HARE newspaper at Night and Day, Bar Centro, Font or Tiger Lounge in Manchester town centre, or the Oakwood in Glossop.
E-mail theharenewspaper@hotmail.co.uk with questions, comments or contributory pieces.
No comments:
Post a Comment