Abram Leyzorek

Booly and the Wolf

Scene one: The Awe of Booly “Squelch, glopsch, splish”, went the marsh as it sucked on the bare, brown feet of Booly Lidda. The boy peered forward intently, straining his moss-green eyes to gather any light rays that might puncture the vapor clouds coalesced around rows of dark, dripping bushes. His eyes, wide and round as teacups, were no less moist than his sopping surroundings: As thunder rumbled softly in the lightning-laced sky behind him, like sparks jumping from the rubbed underbelly of a purring lynx, his eyes shimmered with unshed tears of joie de vivre.