Wallie on Survival


When Wallie and I were faced with today’s prompt, we were in a bind. We knew that if this blog is to survive it must, well, go on. But when it came to “Survival” we were stuck.

“Write about your dying blog,” said my Friend. “Write about fighting for its life.”

Wallie was more interested in surviving the Jungle Orzos and its evil pear-eating birds.

Here is a mix.



When the fever hit we did what we could. We sent it to bed. We piled on the covers and put socks on its feet. We made it drink plenty of water and we told it to rest. But despite our best efforts, nothing worked.

The Blog was dying.


We sat at the bedside to hear its last words.

“Friends,” said the Blog. “This is your fault.”

Wallie hid his face on the floor and cried.


“You neglected me,” said the Blog. “I haven’t had a post in weeks. There is nothing for me to live for.”

I took the Blog’s cold hands in mine.

“No,” I said. “Despair is not the spirit of our Blog. Tell me, Blog, what can be done to save you and I’ll do it.”

“Bring me a pear,” said the Blog. “From the Jungle of Orzos.”

So Wallie, my Friend, and I went immediately in search of the pears of Orzos.

The jungle was perilous. Wallie and I faced many dangers.


But at last we had a pear.


I returned to the Blog. I gave it the pear. It had been pale and dull, but biting that pear was magic. It threw off its covers and jumped out of bed. It was still an ungainly thing, but that couldn’t be helped.

“Whachamachoo!” said Wallie.


And he was quite right.


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