From his treetop Slub Glub saw a mass of weeping willow trees crying hysterically; their overflowing tears appeared to be the cause of the recent deluge.
A group of about a dozen were clustered together, swaying back and forth and emitting piteous wails, their plumes of cascading branches shuddering as they shed great gobs of teardrops from their green leaves.
Slub Glub climbed down from his coconut perch and swam downstream to where the willows were gathered.
“My dear trees, you’ve got to stop this sobbing,” Slub Glub implored the inconsolable willows.
“Whaaaugh,” was their reply, as they continued blubbering.
“Why on earth are you so upset? Your crying is making a flood and we’re all getting much wetter than we’d care to.”
“We’re going bald,” replied the tallest of the trees.
Slub Glub looked up. “You seem to have plenty of leaves up there.”
“No, they’re all being eaten,” the tree replied, and with that the other willows began weeping and wailing even louder.
“Look,” he said, holding out one of his branches, which indeed seemed to have been the victim of recent nibbling; a number of the leaves had noticeable bite marks, and the end of the branch seemed to have been chewed to a nub.
“Ah, I know what that’s like. A shark was trying to eat me just a moment ago… Which is why we can’t have this many tears, you’ve upset the whole forest here, we’re awash in your misery and we’re not used to such streams of sadness puddling up our grasses.”
“Don’t blame us, blame those bark-biting thieves in black masks that come around every night,” said the weeping willow, his foliage drooping in forsaken fashion.
To be continued.
Table of Contents: “Slub Glub in the Weird World of the Weeping Willows”
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Illustration & text copyright (c) Andrew Goldfarb