629 words; fictional monologue by a partridge in a pear tree
|Snow covers the branches of a young pear sapling. A partridge passes the tree, turns around in mid-air and lands on a branch.
Partridge: This looks like a beautiful place to set my bum. Since there are no tracks as far as my eyes can see, I must therefore be the first to stop by since the drift.
Is this true? Can this be a fruit tree -- untouched and unnoticed in the fullness of winter?
Judging by her thickness, she must be young. Though I much prefer older ones, this is quite the babe. With a trunk as straight and balanced as hers, with branches spread wide, surely she has strength enough to hold my nest come springtime. And when she blossoms, I expect a nectarous feast.
Oh poop, someone comes!
A black bird circles the sapling.
A raven! What? Are there no other trees? Well, this sapling is never going to be big enough for the both of us. Time to fluffy up and chase the filth away.
The raven lands on a nearby branch and cocks an eye at the partridge who is going into attack mode. Just before the partridge launches itself at the raven, a loud boom shatters the air. The partridge stares at the empty space where the raven sat just a moment before. The partridge hops to the spot where the raven once perched.
Did the raven blow up? I have never witnessed spontaneous combustion before. Quite disturbing.
Well, I am happy not to fight and all that. I need every feather I have on my back. Hey, the view is good here. I can see the lake. What are those birds doing in the water? Is that... Is that Swan Lake they are performing?
Today must be my lucky day. First this tree and now Swan Lake. If only the swans would advertise, then I would be able to catch the whole show. Still this is better than nothing.
The partridge turns to face the sound of flapping wings. A small duck wobbles lightly on a nearby branch.
Oh ho! A newcomer. Time to teach this quack some manners. Hey, this is my tree! I will give you a count of ten and when I get to ten...
Am I deaf? No. I hear murmurs. There is someone below me.
A giant black dog, wearing a bright red and white striped collar about its neck, pants as he prowls beneath the tree. The partridge sits quietly. The dog picks up the dead duck and walks away, its tail wagging.
I guess the duck did not combust completely or else there would be nothing left for the dog to take. Thank goodness. For a second I thought the dog would find me. This sapling has ways to go and I am not quite ready to abandon her yet. Fortunately, the duck was there.
Back to the program. I think the show is ending. There is only one swan left on the lake. Ah, such dedicated performers. I do not think they even noticed the explosions.
Woo Hoo! I think I will check the lake again tomorrow. Maybe I will catch the beginning.
A squirrel climbs the tree
Oh no! Must I flee from this filthy rodent? Ah, but how I love this tree!
The squirrel scurries closer. The partridge hops to the tip of the branch. Boom! The squirrel flies through the air. Its body disappears into the snowy ground.
Three in a row is no coincidence! Alas, this is a killer tree. It has killed every visitor.
Except for me. I am blessed.
How wonderful that she favors me. So long as I live here, she will protect me. At long last, I have a home to call my own.
submitted to 12 days of Xmas
(Set 1st December)
To create a short humorous monologue from the view of a partridge, sitting in a pear tree! Make me laugh!!