for the love of sticks

By
Stickman was dropped out of a helicopter in the middle of the Amazon. Under so much shock and disbelief, his head was scrambled in confusion and he didn’t know where to begin. As he wondered clueless through the thick, dense woods, a tiger eyes him from a distance. The man was going crazy, so many sticks, how do I take them all!? Suddenly the tiger pounced out from some brush in attack mode. Stickman grabbed a branch from a nearby willow tree, and started casting spells towards the animal like a mad man. His arms were flying this way and that way, legs kicking and shouts in mumble jumble. He swung from tree to tree while spinning in circles like a clown. The tigers jaw dropped to the ground and he started to bust out in laughter while strutting away. Stickman felt victorious, yet the thought of sticks still pondered in his mind.
He stumbled through the forest like a kid in a candy store, from tree to tree, branch to branch, Branches with leaves, no leaves, insects, bark or no bark. Have you ever been shopping with a girl and every time they pick something up they get all fluttery and are like “OMG this is the one!”…….. Unfortunately to say, that was the stickman.
Night fall had started and stickman knew it was time to get a fire going. He pulled out a Zippo and began to work his magic. Relaxing with heat and little bits of insects to feast on, and feeling full he fell into a deep sleep. Totally forgetting about the fire and waking up to an immense heat on his leg, and half asleep he began gathering sticks, while the fire was blazing through the thick woods around him. He was so concerned about the sticks and not his own safety. STICKS! I NEED MORE STICKS!!!!! Zebras, monkeys, tigers, and bears flew past him, yet he climbed, jumped, crawled and fell over sticks. Running like he was Forrest Gump, back and forth between stick piles to trees. On one trip the fire had caught up to his pile, the sticks had grown to an extreme fire! It looked like a movie seen in the forest, animals flying around and chaos everywhere.
His hopes and dreams had vanished, no Amazon sticks and a wasteful adventure. He fell onto his knees sobbing, eventually falling into the fetal position. Stick man didn’t care about the fire, himself, the tiger or spells, just sticks. He just sat there sobbing and not caring about life, he didn’t care if he died. Stick man was never seen again. Most believed he died in the fire but some think he’s still out there gathering sticks. I believe he died in that fire, but his spirit still wanders the forest.





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