I had two friends Ami and Iam with whom I played and conversed on the vast canvas.
A hundred million years ago I was not alone. I had two friends Ami and Iam with whom I played and conversed on the vast canvas. We were part of the Gouda colony. Like other male in our society my friends were fertile, our queen loved them. I was not. I was the philosopher and the scientist. The queen wanted me to have tools to focus the large angle of view of our eyes and to have higher resolution of the images stored in our heads.
I had a pursuit, a penchant and even a burning desire to solve the complex problems, to come up with technology and to design science. So I set off, leaving Ami and Iam behind. They wanted me to be with them, in fun and frolic. But I had to prove – my potency of ideas. I knew it was difficult but I believed transformation was inevitable.

Then one day besides the tree with yellow flowers I met You. You was slow but her grace was in hiding her talent of using her radula. She was a carnivore but she carried me on her shell and when it rained she shrunk herself to fit me in her room. Hers was a single occupancy apartment, not like my colony. I thought she was lucky to have it her own, all along – a caravan with her. She didn’t have to find a home.

She hurried. To unite and to reclaim her identity amongst her family. I was left thinking. Was it worthwhile to try out the technologies for my queen, for me, Ami and Iam? And the others of my colony?

A world with wings, a world which was free, a world of liberty – or so what I thought.
It was night and the rain didn’t subside. The grass looked greener from an angle down as I perched up above the candles in my eyes. It was dim up here and black. The mornings might be better I thought.


“Shit on the holes”, said my friend and flew away.
Is this what I yearned for the million years, I started thinking. Far ahead there were high rises but they never conversed with me. And I wait. I wait for the city to burn itself – one more time, to burn my feathers – dry in want of a flutter.
“The morning broke into a silhouette. It was a silhouette of rods & cones when I found a friend in the city” – #Story http://t.co/biiRZNfG3V
— Learning&Creativity (@LearnNCreate) October 31, 2014
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