More Tales From The Village

    Once upon a time is the traditional way to begin a fairytale and this one is no different. The terrible truth of the village is protected by a terrible Guardian. Then one day in the woods a gardener had the sudden idea that he could kill, destroy, rid the village of this terrible thing. There was a tree, it stood tall and proud, and one day the gardener climbed its limbs and taking a saw he cut a limb off. He stripped the sturdy length of tree branch of it bark, he hewed it to a point then rubbed it so smooth that it was like a lance, a spear, a javelin the balance of which was so perfect. And in a clearing in the woods he practiced his throwing skills with the spear. Then one day when he was working in one of the lower borders there came the blood curdling roar of the approaching Guardian. Hidden in the trailer of the garden tractor by some sacking was the spear, which he snatched up and made himself ready. Everyone was afraid of the Guardian as it bounded passed, but not the gardener, he knew no fear, he stood large and bold, spear in hand before the approaching Guardian. He took aim, he took a few paces forward and threw the spear…….there came a terrible sound, a scream as the Guardian’s white membrane covered the gardeners face, his hands clawing, his lungs bursting as he was being suffocated. Then worse…the white membrane of the Guardian took on a pink hue as it absorbed the body of the gardener. Then rolled and bounded away.
    “It was his own fault” No.2 said “that gardener had no right in attacking the Guardian like that.”
    “He was brave all the same” said his young female assistant
    “Brave?” said No.2 “a rather foolish action if you ask me.”
    “He fashioned himself a spear and tried to kill the Guardian with it.”
    “And what had the Guardian ever done for him?”
    “He was a knight in shining armour on a fiery horse trying to rid the village of a monster with a lance of silver”
    “He was a man in a pair of overalls with a wooden stick, and his fiery horse was a garden tractor!”
     “That’s the trouble with you No.2, you have no romance, and no imagination!”

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