Poop Shute

A fable

There was once a girl and a boy. They went into the woods together for a nice, long walk. Well, it was supposed to be a nice, long walk, but very shortly after their first steps upon the path they had been separated by an accident. He had fallen into a ravine, and she got lost trying to find a safe way to help him out. Now she heard all sorts of eerie noises all around her. She wanted to help the boy, but suddenly there were more pressing matters. Was that a wolf she heard?

Then, suddenly, there was a fog around her. The more scared she got the more the fog began to billow out of her. She quickly realized that the fog was under her control. She could make the fog, at will. This fog was no ordinary fog. It was a noxious gas that made anyone who breathed it very ill. It was somehow comforting and yet more terrifying than the woods themselves. She wondered if the boy was okay, but decided, first thing's first: she had to find her way out of the woods to safety.

After a time, the boy managed to climb his way out of the ravine and find his way home to their village. When he reached the village and found the girl was not there, he took off, back into the woods. Others joined in the search, but none could match the boy's energy. Meanwhile the girl had grown accustomed to her new ability. She was still frightened of the woods, but for some reason couldn't bring herself to leave. The boy and the villagers searched high and low, but she only threw the fog in their way. She convinced herself this was somehow protecting these people and herself. If the fog brought her a little comfort, maybe sharing it would help them too. She was wrong. The fog led many people astray. Many wound up back in the village, not sure how they had arrived there. Others were badly injured while stumbling blindly over uneven terrain.

Gradually, many people began to realize the source of this magical fog. It angered them. Why would she do this? Many voices rang out against the girl. She told herself she didn't care. It didn't matter. It was none of her business anyway, right? It seemed that the fog was having it's toxic effect on the girl as well. The more damage she caused, the more confused and upset the people became, and the more they stopped looking for her. She tried telling herself they didn't matter to her, that she was done with them anyway.

Though, one did not give up. The boy. He continued wandering around in the fog, calling her name. He knew she was still in there, and he wanted nothing more than to see her again. But she did not want to be found, so she rewarded his persistance with more and stronger fog. This fog was nearly impenitrable, and made the boy much more ill than any other. At times he could barely stand, and all he wanted to do was lie down and give over to the release of sleep. To this boy, this was not an option.

He's still in there to this very day. He's become aware enough of the fog's effects to wear a handkerchief over his face, and some days it helps. Some days not. Some days he starts thinking like maybe he wants to try walking back out of the fog (as if he could even tell which way). But then he remembers the girl and how special she is. She's still in there too. Once in a while he's sure he caught a glimpse of her, but as soon as he steps nearer, she vanishes. Several times the boy has stopped and tried to wait it out. At these times he understands that the fog only gets thicker the more he tries, and maybe letting the girl find her way out in her own good time would be best. These moments are quickly overtaken by the boy's own longing and claustrophobia and his efforts are renewed with even more vigor.

So, whenever you find yourself out and about on a foggy day, think of the girl and her boy. If you happen to be in a foggy woods, watch out for them.

At the very least, think of them in their woods and learn.