Anyume's Tale
This is the story of a nice gibbaï.
It is true that most of the gibbaï are rude, dirty and a bit rough, but did you know that when they run towards you, arms wide open, they are in fact trying to give you a hug?
But us homins, we do not like gibbaï hugs so much.
This one gibbaï was even more affectionate than the others.
He dreamed about being hugged, petted, stroked and deloused.
So when he witnessed homins quietly harvesting or having a picnic in the jungle, he always went to welcome them, in the hopes they would invite him to join their activities.
Unfortunately, upon seeing him, homins ran and escaped - if they didn't throw things at him.
This made the gibbaï very sad.
Once, he dyed his hair red, because homins often go talking with red gibbaï. But it turned out they do not give red gibbaï hugs either. Also, red dye does not work so well on black gibbaï fur.
One Atysmas night, he heard laughter and singing.
Coming by, he saw numerous homins gathered, sitting and listening to a story by a Fyros.
Quietly, he drew near them to listen.
None saw him. Alone and sad among the people, he almost believed for a moment that he was one of them.
He left before any homin could take notice, for he didn't want this peaceful moment to end with weapons drawn.
I dedicate this tale to all gibbaï, who dispite their rude manners and their social undesirability, often enjoy dreams and gentleness without being able to share it with others.
This is the story of a nice gibbaï.
It is true that most of the gibbaï are rude, dirty and a bit rough, but did you know that when they run towards you, arms wide open, they are in fact trying to give you a hug?
But us homins, we do not like gibbaï hugs so much.
This one gibbaï was even more affectionate than the others.
He dreamed about being hugged, petted, stroked and deloused.
So when he witnessed homins quietly harvesting or having a picnic in the jungle, he always went to welcome them, in the hopes they would invite him to join their activities.
Unfortunately, upon seeing him, homins ran and escaped - if they didn't throw things at him.
This made the gibbaï very sad.
Once, he dyed his hair red, because homins often go talking with red gibbaï. But it turned out they do not give red gibbaï hugs either. Also, red dye does not work so well on black gibbaï fur.
One Atysmas night, he heard laughter and singing.
Coming by, he saw numerous homins gathered, sitting and listening to a story by a Fyros.
Quietly, he drew near them to listen.
None saw him. Alone and sad among the people, he almost believed for a moment that he was one of them.
He left before any homin could take notice, for he didn't want this peaceful moment to end with weapons drawn.
I dedicate this tale to all gibbaï, who dispite their rude manners and their social undesirability, often enjoy dreams and gentleness without being able to share it with others.