The Obsolete Onion

Okay, this story is ridiculous, but that was kind of my goal when I was writing it. My friend Justin went into clipart and picked random pictures and told me to write a story about it. I'm in the process of turning it into a children's book, but this is the original.


The Obsolete Onion
Delinquent hippopotamuses ran rampant through the streets of Istanbul. The herd of cows housed in the empty lot by the pharmacy stared in utter disbelief. The two headed chick bent on overtaking this usually serene metropolis was the one who unleashed this uncontrollable plague upon its inhabitants. In all reality it was aimed at the city’s perverted municipality, and he could not believe how quickly the mayhem had erupted.

The city had long since been under the jurisdiction of a sneering grey dog who would not relinquish his power no matter how much his not-so-loyal subjects were subjected to the brutality of his rule. Heraldo, the sneering grey dog’s lackey who blindly did all that the dog bade him do, guarded relentlessly the blue suitcase in which the key to the nameless grey dog’s demise was ensnared.

In an isolated part of the mansion in which the grey dog lived, there also lived Frieda the mole. Frieda was slowly going blind, but continued to do her job every day anyway. She went to the market to buy the food that would later be prepared and fed to the sneering grey dog. This morning she purchased a turnip to add to the sneering grey dog’s stew. Her failing eyesight failed to tell her that the turnip she bought was in fact a red onion. When she got back to the mansion, she put all the groceries away and placed the “turnip” on the counter.

The single disheartened red onion lay on the counter pondering on the unfulfilling life he was leading. His life’s dream was to change the world and make it a better place somehow. As he realized his inability to move, none the less change the world, he wished he could shed a tear like the ones he could always cause in the eyes of others. If only he could bring joy instead of tears to someone in this world. Right now nobody even noticed him for who he really was, an onion, not a turnip. Although the red onions plight was a sad one indeed, a bigger and more important one was unfolding in the streets outside the mansion.

The ambling herd of cows continued to stare blankly at the plethora of hippopotamuses running through the now vacant streets. The only other solitary figure that could be seen was the still powerless chick shaking his heads at the incredulity of the situation he had caused, completely at a loss at how to fix the now out of control chaos. By sitting down on the curb of the cobblestone street, he set off a chain of events that would forever intertwine his life with that of the most unlikely of heroes.

As he sat down on that fateful curb in on Main Street in Istanbul, the street cleaner chugged around the corner. The two headed chick, too caught up in his own woes, was ignorant to the street cleaners approach.

The driver of the street cleaner was a porcupine who often drank too much, as he had the night before. The completely inebriated porcupine had stumbled home the night before only hours before having to go to work. This was horrendous planning on his part, but as we will soon see, one man’s mistake could be another man’s big break. Since the porcupine was terribly hung over, he wasn’t particularly paying attention to the far from innocent pedestrian sitting on the curb of the soon to be clean street. All at once the two headed chick was caught up in a flurry of spinning cleaning mechanisms on the street cleaner and whirled about, flung between them both. The street cleaner continued on its predestined path down the street towards the center of town.

As the street cleaner rounded the next corner it happened to pass by the sneering grey dog’s mansion. The two headed chick was hurled from the street cleaner’s unstoppable spinning cleaning mechanisms and crashed through the kitchen window of the mansion. As the two headed chick skidded across the counter, startling the sneering grey dog who happened to be preparing a snack, he knocked the solitary red onion off the counter and into the open silverware drawer. The onion would have screamed in surprise if he had been able to scream.

Upon falling into the silverware drawer the onion was dismayed to look up in time to see the two headed chick falling into the drawer on top of him. The force of the chick falling on the onion caused it to be sliced open in several places by the sharp instruments below.

The sneering grey dog, overcome in a fit of rage at the shattered glass all over and his interrupted snack, stormed to the open drawer to unleash his wrath upon whomever it was that caused such a disturbance. As he neared the mangled onion his eyes started to water, and his nose started to run. All at once he realized his demise. His throat closed, he fell to the ground, and he died. The two headed chick saw the sneering grey dog inhale his last breath, and a shout of joy exploded from his throat.

At his jubilant cry, the onion realized that he was the reason for the tyrant’s death. As the onion wheezed his last breath also, he was content because he had brought joy to the whole land of Istanbul. All his woes were chased away by that one cry of euphoria by the two headed chick.

At the sight of his superior’s death, Heraldo ran away, back to the Mexico that he longed to live in. The two headed chick tentatively went over the ever so elusive blue suitcase and opened it, waiting with baited breath to discover the secret to the dictator’s power. Inside was a medical release stating the fatal allergy the sneering grey dog had to the common red onion.

The town was so jubilant over their new found freedom, that they erected a statue and instated an annual festival in honor of that red onion for changing their world for the better. The cows watched with their usual blank stare.

The Tired Lonely Man (Part 1)

The tired lonely man pushed the images of the beautiful graceful girl to the back of his mind, but hard as he tried he could never push them completely out. She was always there, dancing around and smiling at him. she seemed as though cut out of some perfectly written story where good always triumphs and true love always prevails, and all he ever long for was to be part of her story.
He tore his gaze away from the beautiful mountain scenery outside his window and settled into a chair at his kitchen table. The dream had come again last night. He had thought on the memory for so long now, he could barely dissern the truth from fantasy. Most days he wondered if it was only a dream. Regardless of the level of truth in it, it still haunted his nights.
The dream had started as all his childhood days had. Young and carefree, he explored the forest, fighting monsters and venturing where no one had before. That day was different though, because that day he heard something in the woods other than the occasional deer snapping a twig or the cheerful chirping of birds; he heard a voice.
Going in the direction of the voice revealed taht it came from a girl so pretty he thought she must be a product of his imagination. She had perfect curly hair the darkest shade of brown he had ever seen and flawless skin that looked as if it had never seen the sun. she was walking along the side of a river and humming softly to herself. She was entrancing, and as he sat watching the most unexpected thing happened. As she was crossing the river, her foot slipped on a mossy rock, and she was sent plunging into the water below.
He stood there stunned as she sank below the surface. After the spell which held him bound dissolved, he dove into the water and pulled the beautiful girl from her death. Her wet hair was clinging to her face, and pulling it away revealed a large bump was forming on her head. He bent down and gently dissed her cheek, covered her with his jacket, and as she started to stir, he dissappeared behind the trees.
That is where the line between the dream and reality grows fuzzy, because he had done the same thing everyday since. He wandered around doing the things he needed to do to get by and watched as the pretty girl turned into the most beautiful and saught after young woman in all the surrounding towns. Everyday he regretted leaving her there by the river, and he often wondered how differently his life could be if he hadn't. He sighed as he climbed into bad knowing that just as sure as the sun was setting outside, he would dream of her tonight.
When he went to market the next moring, it was abuzz with word that a ball was going to be held that night. He decided that tonight would be the night he would change his life. He went home and put on his nicest outfit. He shaved his face, combed his hair, and with one last look in the mirror, mounted his horse and set off. As he reached the end of his dusty lane, thunder sounded over the mountains and a few fat raindrops fell on his hat. Even with the rain falling harder and harder with each of the horse's steps, he rode on with undaunted optimism of what the night might bring.
Upon arriving at the ball, he quickly settle his horse and then went in search of the beautiful girl. The house was elegantly decorated and packed full of charming, smiling people. It seemed as though there were hundreds of people pressing in around him, but he found her where he knew she would be. she was in the ballroom twirling around and looking stunning in her sparkling dress. Her hair was bouncing merrily around her face with every movement she took. He sat down on a chair in the corner and watched as tthe whole room lit up whenever she would smile. She looked so happy, and every eye in the room was on her. He looked down at the small hole forming on the right knee of his pants and knew he would ruin the happiness she had if he were to win her heart. He couldn't give her a big house with cooks, and maids, or fancy dresses like the other men in the room could.
Right then the cheerful conversations of the room were inturrupted by a bolt of lightning that illuminated the mountain line outside followed by a deafening boom of thunder. Suddenly the lights in the whole house went out, and when they flickered back on, everyone went back to their dancing. No one noticed that the chair in the corner was empty and the tired lonely man was gone.
The night wore on and when the ball was over and the beautiful graceful girl was alone in her house, the air of happiness she always wore evaporated, and a single tear made a path down her cheek. There was an aching inside of her that never went away. There was some deep yearning for something she needed thoguht she didn't know what it was. Something poked at the bakc of her mind, but she couldn't remember what was so important.
She went to bed that night and had a dream of a boy with freckles scattered across his nose and perfect green eyes. She woke with a start and ran to the attic where she spend the rest of the night looking for something that might not exist. She finally found the dust covered box in the back of the attic just as the sun started to shine above the horizon. When she opeend up the box and saw the carefully folded and worn jacket lying there, she knew what it was that kept her awake at night.
She threw her robe on over her nightgown and ran all the way to the outskirts of town. She ran down the dusty lane, splashing through newly formed puddles as she went, and arrived at a humble little cottage.
she knocked on the door and it slowly creaked open. She entered, a little apprehensive, and looked around the room. Finally her eyes rested on a small folded piece of paper. With trembling hands she picked it up and read these words:

To whomever it may concern:

Though no one will probably take notice of my absence, it felt wrong not at least leaving some dind of a memento to the only house and town I have ever known. I have gone away and will not be returning. I don't know where I am going, but it will be far away as to keep from burdening those I care about with my existence. It saddens my heart to know my eyes will never look upon this beautiful town again, but know that you are better off without me there.

She read and reread the letter time after time searching desperately for a name or hint hidden within, but it wasn't there. she placed the carefully folded letter in her pocket knowing that htis day would forever haunt her nights. She started the slow journey back to town, her head hung low and and emptiness in her eyes, a wondering of what might have been if she had only come sooner pounding her skull.
She was halfway down the lane when the sound of an almost familiar voice gently said her name. she turned, her heart not daring to hope for fear of dissappointment, but there he was, his still perfect green eyes staring into hers. His packed suitcase fell to the ground splashing the contents of a mud puddle on the cuffs of his pants, but he didn't notice. He was too caught up in her presence.
As she ran to him and he held her, another tear ran down her face, but this one wasn't from sadness. She had found what was missing from her life, and the emptiness inside of her now overflowed with joy. Likewise the sad lonely man didn't feel sad or lonely anymore because he finally belonged in a story, and from that day on he was rarely seen not smiling.