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Sunshine In the Forest Page 31 - by Elobo

Sunshine In the Forest Page 31




SunshineForest - #32
Anyways folks, thanks for taking a looksee at this book. It was a spontaneous idea that I had to get down on paper before it left me. So I had a lot of it ready before I began any work. I love a lot of media like this so it reflects on a number of sources. In the end, it's not quite so dark at all. I know the subject matter is meant for kids, but I hope you've enjoyed our little romp.



Other Submissions by Elobo

Author Sort Ascending Sort Descending Title Sort Ascending Sort Descending Description Sort Ascending Sort Descending Date Sort Ascending Sort Descending Rank Sort Ascending Sort Descending
Elobo Mousey in the Sky like Cheese Curds
This strange creature, I've never seen it before. It worms its way effortlessly through my rotten walls. My stomach curls into a knot so Gordian at this crass amalgamation of vermin. What perverse architect thought imagine this tiny abomination?
1/22/10 0.00
Elobo My Mindless Friend
My life… my everything… it used to be at the bottom of the bottle. We were not scientists, we were assembly line workers. It didn’t matter how useful our abominations were, as long as they were present. So I found solace in a melange of liquors hard and brutal. As I pulled my blood soaked arms out of its gaping cranium, my heart was heavy. The brain was wired, the switch was flipped. It stared at me, blankly, for nearly five minutes. Then it smiled, and hung on my every word with unflinching adoration. Was this unconditional love? No, there was a dire condition: lobotomization. But I needed something to grab hold of to haul myself out of the pit of this despair. This seems to be working. Hmm, I’ll feel terrible about him down the road? You know what? Whatever.
11/28/09 8.00
Elobo Nature of the Beast
Ask anyone what the most deadly predator to walk the land is, and they might say Mighty Bear 7 or some other large brute. But they may not be aware of the vicious Chomposaur, terror of the Lost Underworld. Immensely powerful and intelligent, it is no slouch when it comes to hunting. But the same highly developed brain that allows for the use of Psi also breeds an intense cruelty. They will eat anyone who catches their eye, even if their minuscule size means they would be an impoverished meal indeed... They will toy with their food, groping around palm trees. If they were truly hungry or feeling especially wicked, they could easily rend or burn their way to their quarry. But then the deadly game would come to an end.
4/17/09 0.00
Elobo Obsession
Uploading my shoddy fanfest shlock. [ebff2011] "She was a simple hobbyist, her passion keeping her out of nasty associations like Happhy Happyisms and the Fresh Breeze Movement. She didn't dabble in Burglin Park's illicit condiment trade. She didn't join in the midnight vigils of Orange Kid's most staunch admirers. No, she thrust herself headlong onto the exhausting path of an ace mycologist. She poured her energy, her time, her money into her craft. She gave it her life and her livelihood. She accrued so many mushrooms. So many. Why did she need them? It was excessive, the obsession consumed her. The need to separate herself from the normal cliques, and then the need to once again belong. The fibrous hivemind of Peaceful Rest Valley's mushrooms. A direct neural link to the planet. Everyone an extension of the same organism, everyone beloved by everyone else. Intoxicating. Humanity was a small sacrifice. Her collection reached critical mass, and she began collecting everything else. People. Trees. The Valley. She is the valley now, they all are. She dearly wants you to fee the same feeling of oneness, of true belonging. She wants the Earth. She wants to become it. The natural primordial push towards survival compounded by human obsession."
1/17/11 0.00
Elobo Oh So Sinister
[Halloween 2009] "Welcome to my collection little one, I almost left you in my belly too long. Please pardon the mess, I'll wash up shortly. Some great wyrms collect gold, but I prefer bones. Each skull has its own scent, flavour, and memories. A trophy pile singing the praises of my glory. You should be honoured, little one. At the very least, you were particularly delicious."
2/7/10 0.00

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