A short story composed without the assistance of the humble letter ‘A’
I slowly pulled my fingers through the golden flower. Intrigued, I noticed droplets of liquid forming on my fingertips. I stuffed my fingers into my mouth. The sweetness flowed over my tongue.
If this is how to survive in the bush, I think I will be fine.
Things took unlikely turns from this point. “Try this” my instructor grunted. He gently pulled white worms from the split bowl of the tree. My bowels fired. I’m not going to keep this down.
It got progressively worse. Things with legs, things without legs, more with legs, forced upon me.
But I survived!
My pride in completing the course is only outweighed by this complete conviction – If I lose myself in the bush, I will only ever consume the flowers.