2474. Life is not always a bed of roses
© Bruce Goodman 7 July 2022


Apparently beyond all this overgrown scrub and wasteland lies a house with a veranda. On that veranda sleeps a princess on a bed of roses. According to what I read, one kiss and the princess shall awake and the princess and the kisser shall live happily ever after.

That is why I have always brought my machete with me on every foray into the forest. One day, in hunting for the wild boar of the forest, I may come across impenetrable undergrowth. And here now seems to be such a thing. I have been hacking away at the prolific forestation for a good half hour.

There! I can see the house with a veranda. Another five minutes and I should be able to climb the steps to the bed of roses.

And here it is; the most beautiful princess asleep on a bed of roses! I bend down with puckered lips. I kiss. She wakes! She sits up! WOW! I have never seen anyone so beautiful. I am in love! I am bewitched!

Oh! But now I see the kiss has turned me into a frog. Truth is stranger than fiction. Life is never straightforward.

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