Wild Deer – A Story

Image by Виктория Бородинова from Pixabay

Wild Deer – A Story

Come children, gather round, to hear a story about a deer I found. He was a buck equipped with plant spirit. Expectedly, I could not get near it. It was a most gorgeous sight; I watched him busily there at the pond, and I would see his fishy friends of which he was fond.

With tentacle fingers, antlers with leaves, he values his wet friends, in them he believes. Variability weaves.

He had sticky long fingers and all the food he would find, would be stuck to those fingers, as that’s where food would bind. The big fish would eat all the food stuck on a finger; the tiniest particles then would still linger, and babes would then finish it; that’s the humdinger.

He’s related to trees and plants in his view; related to lilies of which there are few. The trees, they know him as he’s their kin too; going back to when everything else was still new.

The water, so blue, has enjoyed the distraction, as it got aerated from the fish’s reaction, which drenched all his fish friends in sheer satisfaction. His rear feet, capable of sticking like glue, to any hard surface... a boulder will do.

Fingers, touching the bluish pond, sent magic up tree roots; the trees would respond. There and beyond. With canopy colors fully ablaze, reminders of

Vincent’s artistic ways, the outer tree family, stuck all their days, are happy where they are; “We don’t repeat everything,” they always say.

With camouflage action, changing color, he’s blending brown and blue.

It’s why you won’t see him; you aren’t so accustomed, to hidden stepping stone views; yes I’ve seen him... that was pure luck; I’m sure it won’t be on the news.

If you see what I see in this painting, this mythical creature tending, to little fishes he calls friends, helping is never-ending.

Finished performing his self-imposed duties, he heads to his home far from there; it’s partly a hilltop that’s partly a garden and everything’s up in the air. Where? A pathway above the treetops. It detours through space and restrictions you’ll face, attempting to get there.

You’d have to be someone invited; something that’s never been done. No one but I have seen the plant-spirit deer, in an unintended sighting and it can’t be undone.

I’m hoping he knows I saw him, and someday I will be, visiting at his homestead, and he’ll be welcoming me. I’d take it as quite a great honor to know, he trusts me so much, he’d allow me to go.

I’ll be waiting, imagining fun; rising through treetops on the path toward the sun; through the space detour, you know the one; following closely, the deer on the run. Should you catch sight of this deer by chance, remember my sighting and my revelation; don’t overreact, just stay calm; manage the situation.

He’s brown and blue. The plant-spirit deer, is there one or a slew? Be grateful if you’re there too.

_{Wild Deer – A Story © free-reign 2020}

Contest Sentence order(numbers represent words):

13, 8, 7, 26, 15, 2, 24, 28, 17, 19, 25, 16, 14, 3, 30, 10, 31, 22, 27, 1, 5, 12, 11, 18, 21, 20, 29, 23, 4, 9, 6

This is my entry to The 31 Sentence Contest Round 13 by @tristancarax. It is a contest based on creating a story with 31 sentences exactly, and each sentence has a set number of words allowed. For more information on joining the challenge see this post: