The green plate leaf is about two inches longer than a Roses but twice shorter than tulips. A swamp of buzzing bees comes every day to suck out the honey bees. But it does not affect the
green plate leaf.
A man who lives in a cross-wood bridge stands on the land where the green plate leaf grew. A man chooses to stay there for the rest of his life. In the meantime, they become friends.
Everyday, the old, bearded-man told his pastime story-life to the green plate leaf. He told everything to it. The green plate leaf is a good listener. A friend in need is a friend indeed. That is what an old-folk told the green plate leaf. Watches are you’re concerned. Where you’re going brings infinite matter because once you step at the wrong direction, then you’ve lost it.
The man of the wood nearby always came. They shared foods together. He is kind but penniless. He could not even buy basic needs. So, the routine starts-over.
“What are you planning to do tomorrow, my friend”, said the man.
“Nothing”, he replied. “Not much. I need to take care of them. Or else some will wilt”.
“Well, let’s go the lake of Bees”, he suggested. The lake of Bees, the land that lived a thousand types of insect. But, one you’ll find singing, buzzing, trembling around must be bees. It’s like a city for them.
No honey-smell can escape from their tiny, little lungs.
“I heard the fishmonger caught a box of Catfish. They are fat, giant-sizes. I we’re lucky, maybe we can get black prawn”.
“C’mon. Don’t think too much. They are just fine. You’ll see it”.
“Alright but promise me, we’ll make our way in short days”.
“I certainly do think it possible, my friend”.
After the cock whistling-rooster, the two friends of old folk-ages walked from the hut. On their way, a man whispered “don’t move…!”
Both of them freeze. No move or sounds. Silent. Voiceless. The man whispered back
Their eyeballs enlarged. Swollen throats. Speechless. A pixie was flying down the oak trees. The two meters branches up on their heads. The oak trees move a sudden. The pixie jumped in happiness. The two friends confused. Rub their eyes twice. It felt like a dream in a wonderland.
The Oak-tree have just passed them and disappeared to the Elfian wood.
A man sneezes. The man stunted. Suddenly, the pixie amused and flied away.
“Good. Now what…”, said a man.
“Forget it. It’s getting dark. Let’s move on”.
After a miles walked from the land of the green plate leaf, they arrived at the lake of Bees.
Buzzing, clinging, the bees did not realize the two comers.