Stories from the Hive
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Paradise Stolen
Stephanie W.

    Deep in the jungles and thicket of the Amazon Rainforest amongst swinging vines, towering trees, and blossoming vegetation the chatter of monkeys the cheep of birds gossiping high over the waterfalls and a thick mist surrounds a baby spider monkey. The bright forest is sunlight sparkling off his coat which his mother has just carefully washed as intently as a hawk watching over her clutch of eggs and as lovingly as a leopard gazing after her young’s tumbling antics. The young monkey takes a great swing and a hop with his powerful tail and lands next to a blooming flower. It is indeed a late bloomer most others are open wide basking in the waves of sunlight that makes their petals lift and color radiate. This flower, though late to bud, is the most beautiful of all. It appears to preen itself and glisten in the warm air each bead of dew from the morning’s rain clinging on to the steam and face each placement seemed thoughtful, yet carefree, effortless yet planned.
    This sanctuary is all the monkey knows; to him it was the entire world, the only world. He believes, as any monkey would, that this land would live on forever that it had been there for his parent’s parents and it would be there for his children’s children. And why, would anyone think differently when they had no reason to believe in any cruelty, having never seen it amongst animals? Unfortunately, there is cruelty and greed in the world. There always will be, for that as the expression goes ‘it is only human’, and it was humans who posed a threat to this baby’s utopia.
    As the morning dew began to fade off the glistening flower a rumble was heard. Like the growl of a bear it grew louder and the scent of fear rushed froward, suddenly there was a mass of panic as the roar became a defining screech and trees came crashing to the ground. Animals fled in all directions spinning in front of the eyes of the young monkey who felt, for the first time, a shocking fear coursing through his body churning inside. Finally, as a beast rose in front of the spot where the monkey stood he realized he had to run, that this was the shattering truth, his life would be over as he knew it he would never again see his mother and would be doomed to wander from place to place looking for a spot to sleep. With this he ran barley conscious of the roar receding in the distance, knowing somehow that he was not to find that same peace he had before the beast came.
    Years later if you returned to this spot you would find no trees to block the blazing sun, no flowers that accent the beautiful scenery, just dirt and stumps long abandoned, and all because homes, businesses, and even schools had not recycled.

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