Folkind land

In the mist of the stony forest there emerged a man. He was as high as he was wide, and he made a flip-floppy noise as he walked over the rocks with his bright orange shoes. 

”There’s a large folkind past that mound over there” he said to Flossy. Karl Edgar was used to these creatures, and had learned to live peacefully alongside them. Recently however, they had started to bother him. The day before last, he had found one of his bright orange shoes stuck in some sticky pink goop. Flossy had had to find the sharpest tool to prise it off. 

She was a kind old soul, with a blue bandana and a constant look of concern. ”We’d better get back to the homeland quickly” she said, not wanting a repeat of last time. They were finding they were visiting the folkind land much less these days. More and more ugly grey constructions were gracing the land, and they didn’t fancy it one bit.

They held hands as they found the entrance to the rock, where they were instantly transported back to their own lands. Lands of thick moss spread over and under the rocks like a sea of green. In between the mossy rocks are the valleys that Karl Edgar and Flossy have made home. 

Although they are pleasant and easy to get along with, they prefer their own company and spend their days enjoying what the land has to offer. It was the twenty-sixth day, and on this day, and every twenty-sixth day since a very long time, Karl Edgar and Flossy have headed to the shores of the blue current to pick their most prized cloudberries. They were cautious to keep their patch secret, as there was nothing else quite like it. 

Uella Watson