FIRST ORDEAL AT MONSIEUR TIDINGS

As I was into the realm of spirit study, it was of a sacred novel which was going well till the distortion from the friendly intruder which handed me many good robes up my sleeves. A good male monkey he is, maybe, he may be like just the rest stone monkeys that dwell on the rock and across the vines and thick stretches or trees across the darkly brook down the valley past our folds former hood . He came and called to tell and warn there has been improvement and told me to take it all light as there lie reasons for every cause. A pointed stick might prick or pierce one as jump trees and land to walk or to feed to be saved from the claws of the killing jaguar in the steep part of the den.

I visited the king next, I thrust all his warnings a-sea and feared less the king’s claw for I sped through to his door step, past his wife and arrogant sons and shrieked good morn to you, there lies one new development the monkey that brought me to you told me. Is it true uh? I asked that with my eye brows raised as if I could defeat thousands of claws with one simple slap. He pretended blind to my habitude and said calmly that sorry for it had to take that form.  I was overwhelmed with angst; it was all I feared to hear. I started to disrespect further, the king left me there outside, went inside and asked the rest of his family to see me out and commanded them to feed on me not from inside. I walked back with my soul down pining with utter regret so. The Monsieur Address has done me their first unjust punishment as the postponement as they have claimed right has thrown me and my reputable consciousness into the dungeon to rot. Monkeys don’t deceive their parents, do we? The truth is told always with us and we take cheerful pats cheering us up to continue in that stead as bananas could couple or triple next.

All newly matured the king of the jungle, the lion should ordain with his claws and grace to proceed to pursue the pursuit of life in this dense jungle. These we would do. I am to be one of them to receive the claws of glory on my cheek to be endorsed to carry around the one of the most reputable badges in this jungle. We report for the king, though we take naught directly as returns from him and he would not eat us for information from diverse bits is power.  

I felt a great surge over me as the king raised and piled up his mighty mane and called upon us the great meeting to hold at the market square had been shelved and snoozed for he only has the power to bring the sun in before the dawn and the moon to serve his claws and fangs after the dusk. Madame Hyena would dislike this new robe I was sure. I noticed she went through the dense of hell to see for the bliss of heaven for the meeting to hold. O, the king, I would cross with thee further. I will curse him tell him, I will curse. He is accursed. This is one prepared morning he has, under the verity of his gory shattered and shredded into jots of horror for me to nurture. He should consider me. O, he would not consider any!  

 Cat family is large, each with castle at each kingdom as they rule. The lion’s remain the best yet as rated by most of the grass eaters, lizards and fishes as they receive information fine enough from the works of the lion king. The tigers have theirs and the Jaguar’s with his curtly touch down the path is there to have gloated and seen nosedived and drowned.

 I have sure overstepped my boundaries with the lion now I feel. Who would cuddle fire and get burnt instantly? I am done with. I am going to be fed on. The roar of the king alone sends many peeing bare in the market square. The likely graces seated upon his tongue are mighty spines that could cut steel in one touch, let me not address the dressing or his fangs and the fiery and fearless gaze of his eyes. It was my passion for the Monsieur with its address to come up that spurred me and my feminine heart. I love it more than that of two lover birds in the tell-tale.  I had longed day and night for this celebration yes, too much expectation already as to the kinds of graces and beauteous eyes that would come to grace us addressed with ribbons, round, hanged on us each, with the king’s claws raised and did us marks to proceed with our callings thus. I have sacrificed much of myself far too much maybe to be part of Monsieur Address but am selfish and vexatious and it is obvious... Who would safe me from the quenching fire to burn now from razing me down? O, I am so doomed! Should I call my parents or let them be as I have thrust much worse ahead them already… Lost! But all this would have lost beforehand for sure had I listened to the monkey at his first call. Now that my worst had had the best of me for worse, the consequence is what animals must await after decision for every decision, there is consequence as my father would always reiterate to us on nightly bases.

He saved my worse at his expense. He has always been there as he went in my stead to the lion’s large tormenting den to plea for another chance. There were bones of other animals like goats, baboons, monkeys, cats and many more that did try to act beyond the strictures of the king and end up suffering the consequence by bites with ferocious rush. He did it and was perhaps scared to do it. He was peeing on his pants and panting as he was pleading and graces of all stars and that of the sun and the moon must be smiling for his stead for me that hour for it was a success. This he would not do again for it was my filth foreseen he went to cleanse latter, as the foreseer. Everyone is important he said, my hero, my dear monkey was mad and sore unhappy with me for my disrespectful habitude and utter pretense all time long to be the most humble and patient type. Everyone with his own worse though, he added. Be careful of what you say and how say it for what you say and how you say it defines who you truly are. All things are expendable and there are better breeds if searches are done deeper. If one monkey would not deliver well, I tell you, raven would travel far and faster and do it better for the kingdom and for the king and for the goodness of the Monsieur Tidings.  

THE END

By Damin, a young poetess and a prolific story writer.