Boop was a Wobble. Wobbles were a blobby little race of wiggly, blue, peoplish, balloon things that lived in the shade of a large, ancient Ginkgo Biloba tree beside a deep, cold pool in a long-lost forest of the distant imaginary past. Boop was a middle-aged Wobble, having been alive for almost eight days. He was healthy for his age and would probably last at least another week. His job, as far back as he could remember, was to push away a large thing that had fallen across the food path. The thing, which, though Boop would never know it, was an acorn cap, was far too heavy for Boop to move. So far he hadn't managed to budge it, not one smidgen. Then he had an idea. He would try the same thing he had always tried, the only thing he could think of, which was just to push on the thing really, really hard until he was exhausted. It didn't work. I was never going to work. This didn't bother Boop. Being of above-average intelligence for a Wobble, he was amazingly stupid. He was happy, though. When he collapsed, exhausted, beside the big thing, he laughed. Some part of him knew, incorrectly, that he would figure out how to move the big thing. Boop was an optimist. As he stared, panting, up into the canopy of Ginkgo leaves far above, he thought many happy, stupid thoughts. He thought about his mother, who had died yesterday. The thought of his mother always made him happy. He thought about the big thing that was blocking the food path. Then he got an idea, the same one again, and he rose excitedly to his feet to try it out.
Up in the tree, unbeknownst, like most things, to Boop, the Wobble god smiled down at Boop. She loved him very much. She loved all the Wobbles. That was why she dropped the acorn cap. She knew it would make Boop happy. And she was right.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
