Monkey Tale

This was generated in a writing workshop. Each participant contributed a noun, verb and adjective, for a total of twelve words. The object was to use all twelve in a story. What follows is what I created.

            Once upon a time a pet monkey escaped from its cage when the zookeeper left the key dangling in the lock. The monkey realized that this was its one chance to get away forever. It ran through the streets of the village, ducking behind garbage cans, climbing gutter pipes and leaping from roof to roof.

            When it came to the town square, the monkey discovered a marble statue of an old man. Because of the slitted eyes that seemed to pinpoint on the monkey, he decided that the man was the evil one who had captured it many years ago. The monkey spat on the statue then leaped up on first one arm, then the other. As it swung back and forth, it punched the cold, hard face over and over.

            When the monkey heard the noise of a crowd that had gathered around the statue, the monkey slid down and ran away down one street after another. Eventually the village was left far behind as towering mountains arose all around.

            The monkey found a well-worn path that disappeared into the forest. At first the path was flat and smooth, but soon it began to rise, higher and higher, getting steeper as the monkey walked along. It soon became quite rocky and rutted, but it didn’t bother the monkey because it started swinging from branch to branch, from tree to tree.

            Up and up the monkey went, higher than it had ever gone before.

            Then  a terrible thing happened; an earthquake shook the ground and made the trees sway back and forth. Right before the monkey a huge crevice appeared, so wide that it feared that it wouldn’t be able to swing across.

            Fortunately a woman walked out of the forest right when the monkey needed help the most. She was scantily clad, wearing nothing more than a fur-lined cape over her shoulders. The monkey thought little about clothes as it had never worn anything at all.

            The woman offered to help the monkey cross the crevice. She cradled the monkey in her arms, then with a few whispered words in a language the monkey didn’t know, the two of them rose into the air, a misty cloud under the woman’s feet.

             Up and up they went, floating like a cloud. Soon they were on the other side of the crevice. The woman asked it the monkey wanted to keep flying, and when it said yes, they headed uphill.

            With the village far behind and no villagers able to capture the monkey, it screeched and called with joy.

A Precious Cat

Today a friend shared an interesting story.

Out for a walk, she spotted an orange cat sleeping on the sidewalk. She had never seen this cat before, but thought it was strange behavior.

What cat sleeps like that?

She approached the cat, speaking softly to it, but it did not react.

My friend continued on her walk, never stopping thinking about the cat.

When she neared her home, the cat had moved. It was now lying in the street. It did not appear to be injured, but my friend believed it was probably ill.

She approached the cat, determined to rescue it. Just as she was about to touch it, it hissed at her.

The only thing she could think to do was knock on doors.

Eventually she found someone who thought the cat might be hers. The woman picked up the cat and put it in a carrier. She took it to the vet where X-rays and blood work was done. The vet found nothing despite the fact that something was obviously wrong. Six hundred dollars poorer, the woman returned home.

Just as the woman opened her front door, her cat appeared! She had taken an unknown cat to the vet.

My friend offered to post a notice on the neighborhood blog. She got the woman‘s contact information, composed the notice, then called the woman back to confirm.

The woman was distraught. The cat had just died!

Imagine the range of emotions that the woman had experienced. Everything from worry, fear and then relief when it was not her pet.

My friend felt quite guilty for involving a total stranger in the story. She would have taken care of the cat herself if she wasn’t afraid of being scratched.

Instead, because of her actions, a neighbor had spent a huge sum on a cat that was not hers, all the while terrified that it was her dear pet.

The moral of the story is not clear. Do you get involved or walk away?