Microstory 1299: The Soldiers and the Ceasefire

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If you’ve never heard of the Christmas Ceasefire, I’ll bring you up to speed. Starting on Christmas Eve in 1914, hostilities between British and German soldiers during the Great War (what you may know as World War I) halted temporarily. Opposing forces not only allowed each other to bury dead and repair trenches, but even came together to observe the holiday. They sang songs and played games in the area between their two sides—generally known as no-man’s land. I’ve heard this story told a million times, and in case you’re wondering, it’s not a fable. It really happened, and it happened as it’s been told. According to sources, I’ve never heard any embellishments or alterations, probably because the original story seems so beautiful on its own that it doesn’t need to be changed to teach the lesson. But what exactly is the lesson? Well, if everyone who has ever told it is to be believed, the magical Christmas truce is meant to teach us that we’re all human. We all have red blood, and we want the same things, and we don’t have to fight each other to get them. Those things are true, more or less—though I would contend that I don’t give a crap what species you are, or what color your blood is; I’m not going to hate you for who you are anyway. The problem is that the Christmas Ceasefire story is an absolutely dreadful means of teaching this lesson. Why? Well, because the British and Germans were killing each other on and before the 23rd, and they continued to kill each other well after the 26th. The war raged on, and did not end until November of 1918. It was also not exactly the last war ever.

There’s this Latin phrase people like to say: si vis pacem, para bellum. It translates to if you want peace, prepare for war. People hear phrases like this, and they’re so short and concise that they don’t really question whether they’re true or not. It’s another example of an aphoroid, which I mentioned in the introduction to this series. In this case, people believe the phrase to be true only because history is littered with war. That’s all we seem to know, but guess what? When I was three, I didn’t know that two plus two was four. I had to learn it later. I recognize that sounds reductive, but I feel the analogy stands. We can learn to live in a world without war. We can achieve peace without it, and we can maintain that peace without the threat of it. The world has been changing ever since it coalesced, and I see no reason for it to stagnate just because we’re here. So I don’t really have a revised version of the Christmas Ceasefire story, because I don’t believe the problem lies in the story itself, but what people have taken from it. It’s great that the soldiers took a break from killing each other for a couple days, and it’s great that it wasn’t an isolated incident. What’s terrible is that these nations felt the need to fight in the first place. Ceasefires should be rare, because war should be rare, if not completely a thing of the past. The human race was built on a foundation of violence and hate, but the thing about foundations is that they are not immutable. All we have to do is tear it all down...and build a better foundation in its place.

Microstory 1298: The Burro and the Bust

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There was a burro whose responsibility it was to carry food and other goods over the mountain to sell at the market. It was a thankless job, but he was proud of it, and always felt that things could be worse. One day, a man approached the burro’s owner, and asked her if he could borrow the burro. They wanted to transport a very important statue through town, so that all could gaze upon its magnificence during a small parade. The woman agreed, and so did the burro, even though he didn’t really understand what was going on. He was just happy to meet a new friend. The man loaded the burro with the statue, and led him down the path. When they reached the town, the crowds came out and cheered. They smiled and laughed, and some even wept a little, for the statue was a bust resembling their late leader. She was a wonderful woman, who did so much for the whole county, and they were grateful to be honoring her in this way. The burro still did not understand, though. He thought the people were cheering for him, so in response, he grunted, and he groaned, and he brayed. And the people cheered louder. They had no problem with it, because the statue didn’t have any feelings, but the burro did. There was no point in ruining his day, and the truth was that he was pretty great anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lying to him. It made everyone happy. The burro continued to walk through town with the bust, smiling with pride, and the day was better for it.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Ass Carrying the Image.

Microstory 1297: The Bat and the War

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A war was brewing amongst the animals of the southern dry lands. No one was quite sure why there was such animosity between the birds and the beasts, but neither side wanted to concede. They wanted to win, and to prove to the other side how much stronger they were. “We are large and fierce,” said the beasts. “Any one of us could easily take down an entire flock of you, if not for your wings.”

“Ah, said the birds, “but we do have wings. That is our great advantage. You may be able to rampage, but we can always fly away. We can also strike down, and peck out your eyes, and you will be hopeless to run away.”

The animals continued to argue, but did not yet resort to violence. Surely it was coming, though, and everyone was secretly afraid of what that might mean for them and their families. As things were deteriorating, both sides noticed something strange. They realized that the bat seemed to be both a bird, and a beast. He had wings like a bird, but fur like a land animal. Each side tried to coax him over to fight with them, but he was hesitant. They insisted that he choose which one he would identify as. “I choose neither side,” said the bat, “and I choose both. I am proof that birds and beasts can live in harmony. Our holy ancestors must have come together at some point long ago to make me.” And so the bat continued to speak his word, and since both sides respected him, they listened, and they also felt comfortable airing their own grievances. It was through the bat’s mediation that war was prevented entirely.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Bat, the Birds, and the Beasts.

Microstory 1296: The Fisherman and His Small Catch

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There once was a humble fisherman who possessed no skills but fishing, no assets but his little hut, and his fishing gear, and no hope for a better tomorrow. He lived day to day, surviving on the catch he made when he went out to the center of the little pond near his home. Over the years, the fisherman noticed his catches were getting smaller and smaller, and the fish themselves were getting smaller too. During one of these times, he caught a very, very small fish—probably the smallest he had ever seen on his line. The tiny fish begged for its life, claiming that the fisherman should throw it back into the water, and wait for it to grow much bigger. The fisherman scoffed, for he felt he was too old and wise to be fooled by such nonsense. “I might as well keep you, because you may be small, but I would rather eat very little tonight than nothing.” But the fisherman was wrong. You see, even though he was the only one who ever fished in that pond, he did it every day, and what he didn’t realize was that he was cleaning it out more and more each time. The fish population was shrinking by the week. Some small fish were meant to be food for the larger fish, but with nothing to eat, these larger fish died before they could lay eggs. The fisherman needed to learn that good things would come to those who wait. A small catch wasn’t better than nothing if he had to put too much effort into it. He was better off being patient, and waiting for something more rewarding…more useful. But the fisherman was not patient, and did not think things through, and he thought he would spend his whole life fishing in this pond without a care in the world. As it turned out, he was the architect of his own demise. He was starving, and near death, before he finally gave up on that pond, and moved somewhere else.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Fisherman and the Little Fish.

Microstory 1295: The Birds and the Seeds

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An eclectic colony of birds was once hopping about the ground, pecking at the seeds that lay in the soil. This was a great place for them to live, for there was always plenty of food around, and the humans who tended the crops did not pay them any mind. They just kept hopping joyfully, and partaking in the seeds. “Careful,” said one of the birds to the others. She was a raven, which meant she was a little bit smarter than all the others. “Those brown ones there; those are hemp seeds. Be sure to pick up every single one, or you will be sorry later.” When they asked her why it was so important they take all of those particular seeds, she replied, “hemp is a very important plant for the humans. They make many things out of them, but what we’re most worried about are the nets. Other humans will use these nets to catch the birds.” The other birds heeded the raven’s warning, and did not leave one single hemp seed on the ground. Months later, however, the birds found themselves being swept up in a hemp net. They asked for the raven to explain, but she did not understand. “The humans should not have been able to make any hemp ropes without the seeds to grow the plants,” she said. “This shouldn’t be possible.”

The crow was even smarter than the raven; so much so that she did not get caught in the net at all. She landed next to the poor birds, and said one thing before she flew away. “These are not the only hemp plants in the world. Danger lurks everywhere.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Swallow and the Other Birds.

Microstory 1294: The Flies and the Gnats

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A business of flies was so tired of having to hunt for food. They wanted to find a consistent and endless supply of resources, without having to work for it. Meanwhile, a cloud of gnats would scold them for thinking this way. “You should want to work for your food,” the gnats would say. “You will feel better for it.” But the flies were not convinced. They knew there was something else out there, so they sent scouts out to the unknown lands, in search of exactly what they were looking for. Finally, they found it in the form of a dumpster behind a restaurant. This was where the business of flies decided to live. The restaurant always dumped their leftovers at the end of the night, without fail, and it was always full of tasty treats. This went on for generations to come. The gnats, on the other hand, continued to travel from house to house. Whenever they exhausted the resources they had found there, there was nothing else they could do but move on to the next. Some houses were kept cleaning, and were no good. One night, the cloud thought it had discovered a great source of honey. “This is amazing,” the said. “We worked hard, and did not give up, and this is our reward.” But the honey was a trap...literally. While they were busy applauding themselves for their work ethic, a human came by and sucked them all up into a vacuum cleaner.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Flies and the Honeypot.

Microstory 1293: The Predators and Their Spoils

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A tiger, a wolverine, a hyena, and a black bear once became a hunting party. They decided to join forces, so no prey would be able to escape their grasp. The tiger was sort of considered their leader, even though the team-up was more or less the wolverine’s idea. The tiger was the largest, and this was her territory, so she determined which animals they were going to go after, and what strategy they would use to catch them. Though they were hunting together, they were not eating together. The general rule was that each predator still got to keep for themselves whatever they caught, just as it would be if they were operating separately. They really just stuck together to instill more fear in their targets, so it would be easier to take them down. This seemed to have a side effect, however, when they eventually found that the animals figured out how to steer clear of this fearsome four. They learned how the the predator group hunted, and more importantly, how to avoid them. This quite nearly caused the group to disband, and head their separate ways, but the black bear had an idea. All they needed to do was travel north, to a land where the animals knew nothing about them. They needed to regain their element of surprise. This seemed like a good idea, so they packed up, and moved out. What the black bear failed to mention, however, was that there were fewer animals in the north, because it was always sparsely populated. They continued to struggle to find food, until one day when the hyena was able to run down a moose who had been drinking by a stream. It was quite large, but it was also alone, so if they followed their own rules, only the hyena would get to eat. “We can change the rules,” the tiger said after a long pause in the argument about it. “We are the ones that made them up, after all! We shall divide the moose into four equal parts; one for each of us.” And so they did, and it was fair, and they were full.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Lion’s Share.

Microstory 1292: The Coney and Her Ears

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A lion was trying to eat the meat of a goat he had captured when the goat’s horns scratched his face up. One of them nearly took out his eye when he leaned over, and this angered the lion greatly. Not wanting to risk anything like this happening again, the lion stood on top of his proclamation rock, and proclaimed that all animals with horns of any kind will be banished from the lands. Anyone fitting the description was required to leave within one day. Now, of course the coney did not have horns, but she did have long ears on top of her head, which the lion might take offense to. She could not sleep that not for fear of the lion becoming angry with her for staying. He did say that anyone with horns of any kind should leave; perhaps her tall ears were close enough. When she stepped out of her hole the following morning, the sun’s light fell upon her head, and cast a long shadow on the ground before her, making her ears look even larger than they normally did. She even convinced herself that they were horn-like. Now she was certain that it wasn’t worth the risk to stick around. She was so upset about having to move, but she did not want to suffer the lion’s wrath. He was such a fearsome creature, and she was such a little thing. “Goodbye,” she said to all her friends. “I do not want to go, but I have no other choice.”

“Good for you,” said the badger.

“How is this good?” the coney asked.

“Why, all the horned animals are looking at this development the wrong way,” the badger tried to explain. “Sure, you have to move, but you should be happier than anyone. After all, you’re not supposed to want to be eaten by a predator. It is the rest of us who must continue to live in fear.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Hare and His Ears.

Microstory 1291: The Rooster and the Wolf

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A wolf was walking through the woods when he came upon a farm. He was so hungry, and hadn’t found food in days, so he thought this was the perfect spot. Unfortunately, the farmer had placed traps on the edge of his property, and one of them caught the wolf before he was able to even get close. This was very early in the morning, so only the rooster was awake, patrolling the grounds. When the wolf saw him approach, he knew he had to come up with a story. If he freely admitted his intentions, the rooster would cause a ruckus, and the wolf would surely be done for. So he spun a lie about how he hadn’t even noticed the farm, that he was just passing by on his way to a watering hole, and that he had no plans to harm anyone there. As convincing as the wolf was, the rooster knew that he was lying. He did what he believed to be his job, and woke the whole farm, particularly the farmer. Well, the wolf, knowing this would be the end of him if he didn’t do something, focused all of his attention on the line he was tied up in, and gnawed it apart as quickly as he could. He didn’t make it into the treeline before the farmer managed to fire his shotgun, though, and hit him with a couple shots. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but it did damage his right ear enough to cause permanent hearing loss. And that was enough to anger him greatly. Yes, the wolf was indeed planning to invade the farm, and take some chickens. But he wasn’t going to be greedy about it. Now things were different. Now he had a vendetta, and he felt that he had no choice but to make things so much worse at the farm. At the time, he was a lone wolf, but that didn’t mean he was an omega, or that other wolves wouldn’t help him. So he gathered up all the others he could find in the area, and galvanized them into warriors. Then they attacked the farm together, and killed nearly everything there. But they left the rooster alive.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Cock and the Fox.

Microstory 1290: The Fox and His Friends

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A dog and a chicken were bored of the farm where they had both lived their entire lives. They wanted to see the world, so they broke through the fence, and started their journey. They weren’t able to travel very fast, because the chicken couldn’t keep up with the dog, and the dog couldn’t move very fast when she had a chicken on her back. Still they continued, because it was important for them to see things they never had before, and to gain valuable experiences. As the hour grew late, they knew they had to find a place to sleep, so they settled on a nice, large tree. The lowest branch was high enough to keep the chicken away from danger, and the trunk was hollowed out, so the dog could crawl inside. When morning came, the chicken woke up with a start. For a second, she forgot where she was, and fell off the branch. She clucked louder than she ever had before. Had she still been at the farm, she would have awoken everyone else there. As it happened, only a fox was alerted to her presence. Fearful and worried, the chicken flew back up to the branch, and looked around for danger. The dog, meanwhile, ran off to patrol the area, to make sure her little chicken friend was safe. It was at this time that the fox glided up to the tree to see what the fuss was about. “Get away from me,” the chicken said to him. “I will not be your meal today!”

“Please do not be frightened.” The fox couldn’t remember where he had gone wrong in his life, or how he had generated such a terrible reputation, but he wanted to change that. Yes, this prey looked tasty, but he also desperately needed friends, and that had to be more important. “I promise that I am not here to hurt you.”

“My dog friend will return soon, and then you will be sorry.”

Then the fox got an idea. It wasn’t the best he ever had, but he felt he had to do something. He threw a grape into the air with his mouth, and then struck it with his tail. It flew up towards the trunk, and knocked the chicken from her roost. The fox then proceeded to sit there without hurting the chicken, so that when the dog returned, he could show them that he was telling the truth. Their friendship did not come easy, but over time, the fox was able to prove himself a better friend than an enemy.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Dog, the Cock, and the Fox.

Microstory 1289: The Man and His Breath

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A satyr was walking along the path in the dead of winter when he came across a human doing the same. The man looked cold and weary, and he explained that he had many steps yet to go, so the satyr offered to let him stay in his little hut for the night. The satyr led his friend along the path, towards his home. As they were walking, the satyr noticed the man breathing into his hands. “Why do you do that?” the satyr asked.

“This keeps both my hands, and my face, warm.”

The satyr believed he knew what the man meant, even though the temperature didn’t bother him much. He was built for this kind of weather. When they arrived at his place, he sat his new friend at the table while he started a fire, and prepared a nice meal for them to eat together. Once the porridge was ready, he sat down himself, and started to eat. He didn’t even notice how hot it was. The man, however, first blew on his porridge, just like he had when he was outside. “Why do you do that?” the satyr found himself asking again.

“This cools the porridge down,” the man explained.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” the satyr complained. “Why not one hour ago, you did the same thing to make something warm!”

“Yes,” said the man. “It’s called the second law of thermodynamics. My breath is about the same temperature as it always is. Which means it’s warmer than the winter air outside, and cooler than the porridge that was heated by fire. When my breath mixes with these things, they make each other change temperatures. Which direction that temperature goes—colder, or hotter—depends entirely on which end of the spectrum they are to begin with.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Man and the Satyr.

Microstory 1288: The Mule and Its Burden

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A mule was carrying a load of salt for his master, so that the master could sell his product at the market. The trail there was treacherous and long, and there was one particular spot that always gave them trouble. The mule was always able to cross the stream, but it required a lot of patience and care, and there was always a risk that something would go wrong. The master once tried to take them on an alternate route, but the trail was far longer, and was more dangerous overall. Their luck ran out when the mule slipped on a wet rock, and fell to his side. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt, and was able to stand back up. In fact, he felt better than ever, because much of the salt had spilled into the stream, to be lost forever. The master was disappointed, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Hopefully it would never happen again. But the mule had other plans. The next time they took the journey, he had the idea to slip again, and lighten his load a bit. His plan worked perfectly; too good, actually. He lost more of the salt than he had planned on, which made his master become suspicious of him. Still, they kept trying. When it happened a third time, the master knew that something was wrong. He was unable to communicate with his mule, but he realized there was only one solution to the problem. The next time they went out, he loaded his mule up with less salt than normal, and carried the rest of it himself. The mule was grateful, and decided to cross the stream safely once more. All was well.


This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Ass and the Load of Salt.

Microstory 1287: The Father and the Snake

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A father and his son were coming back from the market one day when the son accidentally stepped on a pile of eggs. The father examined the remains, and discovered that they belonged to a snake. The son was upset about what he had done, but his father assured him that these things happen. He was also afraid the mother would return, and be stricken with sadness for what happened, but the father also knew that this variety of snake always abandons her eggs, and would move on with her life, never knowing something had happened. Unfortunately, he was wrong. This particular mother snake was a little different. For whatever reason she felt the urge to return to her nest, and check on her babies. She was horrified by what she found there, and even though it was not in her nature, felt compelled to seek revenge on whoever killed her young. She sniffed around, and picked up the scent. Then she slithered off to hunt for the culprit. She found him, and bit the boy in the ankle. The boy nearly died, but the father acted quickly, and got him medical attention. He was angry, though, so he hunted the mother snake right back, and cut off her tail with a shovel. Now even angrier, the snake returned to the father’s home, and bit several of his cows. She bit each one of them many times, in the dead of night, so he would not be able to tend to them in time. Angrier too, the father went out to get his revenge again, but this time, he was determined to kill her, and just be done with it. But the son did not want this to happen. While he was still recovering, he struggled out of bed, and followed his father to the woods. He finally caught up with him just as they were coming upon the snake. She was prepared for a fight, and so was the father. “No,” the son declared. “You will not do this. No good can come of it.” He continued his speech, trying desperately to dissuade them from their bloodlust. The cycle of violence had to end, and both of them knew it. Neither believed the other should concede first. It was just that each worried the other wouldn’t take kindly to a truce, and that it might make things worse. But someone had to risk it. The boy’s words were enough to change them both for the better. The father apologized for the snake’s young, and the snake apologized for his cattle. She tried to apologize for the boy, but the boy insisted that all was forgiven on his end. The father and the snake did not become friends that day, but they were no longer enemies.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Man and the Serpent.

Microstory 1286: The Turtle and Her Home

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It came to pass in the very early days of creation that the god of the animals, and the god of the plants, decided to marry each other. They wanted to better blend all life in the world, and manage them together. Only then did they think life would thrive, and multiply. All the animals living at the time were invited to the wedding, and nearly all of them showed up. Notably absent, however, was the turtle. No one knew why she wasn’t there to honor the god who created her, but they were worried that something terrible had happened to her. After the ceremony was over, they came to learn that the turtle was perfectly safe, and that she had simply chosen to not attend. The others said it was rude and inconsiderate, but if they were being honest with themselves, perhaps they would realize that they were mostly upset because they had felt obligated to come. She wasn’t afraid to make her own decisions, like they were. It was only the two gods that were willing to listen to her explanation. “My house is not much,” she explained, “but it is mine, and I love it, and it is where I feel the safest. You invited the sharks and the seabirds, and though you placed a temporary truce on us, I was too afraid that my predators would not honor it.” And so the two gods thought over her concerns, and decided to make things better. They wanted her to feel safe all the time, even though they knew that she would forever remain part of the circle of life, just as everyone else was. The best idea they could come up with was to allow the turtle to carry her home with her wherever she went. So the turtle was happy.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called Zeus and the Tortoise, though I can’t seem to find the source that I drew from, and I don’t feel that it would be right to link to some other version of it that uses different wording.

Microstory 1285: The Boy and the Chocolates

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A class of young school children was on a field trip to the mall in the center of town. There were many fascinating specialty stores there that were able to keep the children busy for hours. One sold all sorts of art supplies, while another was dedicated to music. There were restaurants of all kinds, and even a small theatre where the students sat to watch a local production of a popular play. There was also a candy story, which the students were specifically warned not to enter. A half hour before they were set to leave the mall, however, the teacher revealed that they would indeed be going into the candy store, but that they would be going in together, and in an orderly fashion. The kids were all so very excited. The owners of the candy shop were a friendly couple who liked to bring joy to children’s lives. So they agreed to a deal where each student would be allowed to take on fistful of candy from one of the dozen or so jars that they had laid out on the table for the occasion. The children were very good. Each one stood patiently in line, and waited their turn. One boy amongst them was a little different than the others. Due to a condition he had had since birth, he was rather large for his age, and he always felt a little out of place. His classmates weren’t too terribly mean to him about it, but he did experience a few jokes here and there. One thing he loved was chocolate; probably more than anyone else here. He could live off the stuff for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, when it came to be his turn, he found that he could barely fit his hand inside the jar, let alone grab a fistful of sweets, and pull them out safely. It was a rule that each child would only be able to take as much as they could in one go, but it was looking like he wasn’t going to get very many. He reached as far as he could, but the best he could do was grasp one piece between his index and middle finger; one lousy piece, and it wasn’t even his favorite kind. “Surely we can bend the rules this one time,” one of the shop owners said. “We shall pour some into his hand.”

“Only if that’s okay with the rest of the students,” the teacher said.

The boy was saddened, for he did not think his classmates would let him do things differently. But he was wrong. They gladly gave him permission, with no hesitation. After all, they had already received their own candies, and weren’t going to get any more, whether he got his own fill, or not.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Boy and the Filberts.

Microstory 1284: The Squirrels and the Frogs

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Squirrels are very timid creatures. The slightest twitch of a twig will cause them to run away, and seek safety. A scurry of squirrels once lived in the southern lands, who did not know what to do with themselves. They didn’t want to live like this anymore, but what else could they do? They were always afraid, but there was never any way to know for sure whether what frightened them was truly something to be feared, or if it was innocuous. The only thing they could do was run, and they only got an answer to the question once they were out of harm’s way, if at all. But what kind of life was that? Was there a way to transcend their nature? Surely they couldn’t become the predators they were so afraid of, and nature never gave them any means to protect themselves. What could they do to feel safer, and not just for one day, but in the long run? Perhaps it was impossible. One day, the whole scurry was running from a team of stampeding horses. The horses meant them no harm, but they also didn’t have any strong feelings about the squirrels, and were making no effort to avoid them underfoot. The squirrels found themselves running towards a lake. While squirrels can swim, the lake was probably too large for them to swim clear across to the other side before becoming too tired and drowning. Still, they didn’t think they had any other choice, so they just kept going. As they approached the bank, an army of frogs noticed them, and hopped into the water, frightened as well. “Look,” said one of the squirrels. “I suppose there is always someone worse off than you, isn’t there? Maybe our lives aren’t so bad.”

“No,” another replied to him, “things are neither good, nor bad. They just are. Come, let us speak with the frogs. If we teach them not to fear us, maybe we can learn to fear less as well.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Hares and the Frogs.

Microstory 1283: The Lion and the Turkey

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In the animal preserve, all the animals got along. The predators were given meat by the humans, so the prey no longer felt that they were in danger. A sort of society formed amongst just the animals. They didn’t have a democracy, per se, and they certainly didn’t know how to vote, but they did sort of agree to let the lion rule over them, to some degree. The truth was that there weren’t a whole lot of decisions that these animals needed to make, since the humans took care of pretty much everything, but they liked to feel that they were at least somewhat independent. After all, this was something they could not get in the wild. The lion would never rule over anything, as he would have naturally eaten half of everything in there, and the other half if times were tough. This was something special. One tradition they began was to have the lion walk across the courtyard in front of everyone at the beginning of every day. The humans were not yet awake, so they would not see how strange and out of character this was. It was a vain and pointless ceremony, but they did it, because again, there wasn’t much else. During one such of these walks, the turkey made a rude comment about him under his breath. He was tired of being ruled by the lion, and didn’t think it was fair. The lion heard what he had said, and turned to face his detractor. The prey close enough to hear it spread word to the others, and everyone guessed that the turkey would be eaten for his insolence. The predators snickered, for most of them guessed the lion wouldn’t even bother with the turkey. He was a silly little creature, and surely not worth the lion’s time. But they were all wrong. The lion stared at the turkey for what seemed like ages. Then he placed a paw on his shoulder, and ushered him away from the crowd. “Come, my friend,” the lion said. “We should discuss your grievances. What good am I as a leader if I do not listen to those I lead? If something should be changed, we will change it.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Lion and an Ass.

Microstory 1282: The Werewolf and the Wife

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In those early days of misunderstanding, a young werewolf pup became separated from his family, and his pack. He had to grow up in the woods alone, having long forgotten where he came from, and not knowing if there were others like him. He could turn himself into a boy, sure, but he lived like an animal. Over time and with no family, this wild side of him took over, and there seemed to be no hope that he could ever live amongst others, of any kind. The regular wolves could tell that he was different, and they wanted no part of him. Years later, he was taken in by a family, and raised there with their teenage daughter. “He will only hurt you,” their neighbors would say. “It is in his nature, for he is clearly much more wolf than he is man.” But the family did not listen, and they decided to help him learn to be part of something larger than himself. While they were all there for him, the daughter was largely responsible for teaching him how to be a civilized human. The werewolf grew further, and got himself an education. He held onto his studies, and eventually made his way into academia, where he became a professor of Werewolf Sociology at a prestigious university. He married the family’s daughter, and she continued to help make sure that he did not forget his manners. This was a far cry from the naked animal-boy he was before.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Cat-Maiden.

Microstory 1281: The Little Fish and the Big Net

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There was a fisherman who was proud of his work. He did not care to go to the market and purchase the tools he needed for his trade. When the seas were too dangerous, or when he just wasn’t up for going out on the water, he liked to sit in his cabin, and create his own tools. He carved his own fishing rods, strung his own fishing lines, and even weaved his own net. He was so proud of his net that he couldn’t wait to go back out there, and give it a try. He dropped it in the water, and dragged it along to pick up as many fish as he possibly could. Now, the fish he caught were large, which were great, but he noticed that a great many smaller fish escaped his clutches. He was not happy with this. He wanted to get all the fish he possibly could, so he went back home, and started weaving a new net. He made it as tight as he possibly could, so barely a drop of water could pass through. “No fish will escape me now,” the fisherman said after months and months of working on it tirelessly. He dropped it in the water, and scooped up a hefty haul. When he took his catch to the market, he noticed that people were still only buying the larger fish from him. “Why don’t you take some of these instead?” he would ask. They always answered the same, that there was not enough meat for them to get anything out of those tiny little fish. “But I worked so much harder to get these ones,” he complained. It didn’t matter. His efforts were not just pointless, but counterproductive. Had he only focused on gathering the fish he would be able to sell, he would have been able to catch more than one school. No one cared how much effort he put into his profession; only the results of those efforts. They would have been just as happy with the larger net.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Fisherman and His Nets.

Microstory 1280: The Bat and the Boar

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A bat was flying overhead, looking for some food to eat, when she noticed a boar scratching his tusks against a tree. Curious, she flew down and asked him what he was doing. “Are you trying to cut that tree down? I do not believe that you will be able to.”

“No,” the boar replied. “I’m sharpening my tusks.”

This frightened the bat, for she had just flown above, but did not see any threat. “Are you in the midst of war?” she asked. “I did not see an enemy when I was in the sky.”

The ignorance annoyed the boar. “I need to sharpen my weapons now, so that when the fighting does come—as it inevitably will—I’ll be ready,” he tried to explain. “You know what they say, if you want peace, prepare for war.” He went back to sharpening.

“That may be what they say, but that does not mean it is true,” the bat argued. “War is war, and peace is peace. I say that if you want peace, be peaceful.”

And so it was that the animals in the forest were so afraid of the boar that they attacked him together. His prediction was a self-fulling prophecy. The bat, meanwhile, was left alone, for she did not purposefully make herself appear as a threat.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Wild Boar and the Fox.