Today I greeted the horse, as I often do, on my lunchtime walk. Normally he is very quiet and doesn’t say much but today he told me about his recent adventures. He described a wonderous land and his travels through it, and asked if I would like him to show me what he saw.
I climbed aboard and we headed toward a huge old rotten treestump where the door to his fabulous new kingdom could be found.
As we entered the misty swamp where the gateway emerged we heard what sounded like the screams of an infant. The reeds were too high and the fog too thick to see the source of the distress. There was a fresh smell in the air, not like the swamps we have back home, something idyllic about it if only the child would be quiet.
We found a pathway of stepping stones through the bog which took us to firmer ground, from where the sounds were clearer and we could investigate further. Presently we came upon a group of crocodiles of arbitrary bigness, one of which seemed to have its jaws around a baby. It was too late for us to save the wretched child, I looked around for its mother but could see no sign of her.
My guide took me away from horrible beasts as quick as he could, through the forest, up a nearby hill whereupon we happened across a clearing. In the centre of the clearing was a herd of unicorns, creatures I had never believed existed. They were smaller than I had imagined they would be, maybe three feet tall, but otherwise shaped much like my guide. They saw us and attempted to talk to my companion. He said he had never heard such a tongue as these animals were using, that he could comprehend nothing about their intentions.
Suddenly a rustling in the bushes from one side of the clearing caused alarm in the herd and they started to run. The tiger broke out of the shrubbery and followed the stampede, not glancing twice at us two strange creatures in its land.
We followed, driven by a morbid desire to see how the kill works here. Running, running, running through the forest, ducking the wayward branches of trees, canopy high so I can’t see the detail of the leaves and we’re moving too fast to focus on those that have fallen to the ground.
Eventually we catch up with the remains of the herd. Skewered on the solitary horn of one of the beasts there was a surprised looking bear, the poor creature had been in the path of stampede and been impaled.
There are many more things I could tell you about that strange place, but now is not the time. There are some pictures of the things I saw – somehow all the creatures in these pictures look like knitting, but the real things were very much like those in our world, but very different at the same time.
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