Quiet and Dainty things

Rocks crackled and hissed beneath the young child’s feet. As he squinted out from his tormented eyes, teardrops of water cascaded down his rosy cheeks. The land was at war with itself. Grumbling and moaning as the clouds broiled with each other, the earth shuddered and split at various fissures, screaming and ripping apart the very air with its agony. The little boy couldn't stand the piercing sounds, and he vainly attempted to shut out the noise with his tiny hands. Wicked, white steam spat out from the many cracks between the rocks, wretchedly spitting scalding water into the poor boy’s face. As he watched with disbelieving eyes, some rocks disintegrated, bursting apart into tiny shrapnel , and just like the seconds after a gunshot, a haunting resonance lingered after each blast.

The little boy’s terror was well described by the look on his face. Fear lined his small face, and his frozen, petrified body began to shiver in dread. Yelping as a rock beside him exploded, rock shards the size of nails biting into his pale skin, he hid behind a large mound.

When the screaming stopped, and the clouds quieted down, the shock was worse than being shoved onto the floor. The angry clouds simmered silently, and the ground steamed softly. The boy gingerly stood up, and tried to make sense of where he was. He was standing above a slope of hard earth and charcoal rocks, sparsely scattered with peeking weeds. Boulders that could crush all his bones in one blow lay scattered like forgotten weapons along the slope, and some areas still spotted burning embers, remnants of the war held moments before. The land was devoid of anyone else except for the snivelling boy, but it felt as if the land was breathing slowly, settling down back into firm ground. Making his way down the slope, he saw feeble insects dismally crawling around the rocks, trying to find their bearings, and spotted a few deers looking at him from the safety of their trees a few metres away. Then, he felt the earth shudder again.

Cowering in horror, the boy wailed. Crying, he fell down to the floor, his whole body tensed in angst for the noises to start again. But this time, it was worse. The ground in front of him parted, great blocks of stone caving into the earth, as the ground squealed apart. A deep roar erupted from inside the growing hole ahead of him, and the air grew humid with an unidentifiable stench. A monster emerged from the hole. A gargantuan fiend, it opened its jaws and roared again, defying the sounds created by the clouds before. As the little boy twitched in uncontrollable fear, the monster wormed its way to the surface, its powerful limbs pushing its great body outwards. As the boy finally opened his eyes to look at the beast, he realised he recognised it from his textbook. It was a whale, with two legs and two hands.