I just can’t resist. I’m looking at my blog, and there’s an ad for something that gets rid of toenail fungus right under my post. Toenail fungus! I must write a story.
Fred was a lucky little fungus dude, born on a beach like that. He spent his days dodging crabs and those weird sand bugs and big feet. He hid under driftwood at noon, preferring dark; and ran from the high tide laughing like a fool. He enjoyed the leavings of picnickers and lived in children’s sand castles until the waves obliterated them. Livin’ the good life.
Until that fateful day. He had climbed to the keep of his current castle to check the weather when the world went dark. And collapsed on him.
He squeezed between skin and sand until he saw light, crawled up in a space and climbed up to a rock, or what felt like a rock. Acutally it smelled like food, so he dug in. And then the food began to jerk and jump, a roller coaster effect. Fred hid in a crack and hung on for dear life. After a wild ride, the food finally stopped in a ray of sun. Fred wasn’t crazy about sun, but suddenly a black cloud covered it. He went back to consuming the delicious yummies he’d been so fortunate to find. Only, it wasn’t long before something hard and smelly squeezed him back into the crack.
Oh well, there were munchies in there, too. He kept chewing, day after day.
Until another fateful day that reminded him of that Raid commercial. First, there was this dagnasty smell. Then he was swimming in acid, screaming for help. He climbed up on the rock and shook himself off, breathing hard. Here came that black whatever that was again. It wiped up the acid and the smell dissipated.
Fred, who was developing a pot belly, but we won’t mention that, resumed his meal. About every 24 hours he gets an acid bath, but he doesn’t mind. It doesn’t affect the delicacies he dines on.
As far as anyone knows, he’s still at it.