Sunday Stroll

The old city was a sleepy tangle of leaning towers, glowing mushrooms, and drifting clouds of sparkly spores. Everything creaked and sighed like it was dreaming.
Through it all toddled Plasticfant, the tiny pink elephant, humming a bubbly little tune and swinging his trunk like a happy metronome. Tap, tap, squish went his feet on the mossy street.
“Ooo,” he murmured, sniffing the air. “Smells… kinda like jam.”

(It did not.)

He wandered past crumbling cafés dripping with soft blue fungus, past shadows that skittered away when he waved. Beyond them stretched a wide plaza, churned up with claw marks and scattered bones — a proper feeding ground for something very chompy and very nearby.

Plasticfant didn’t notice.
He was too busy admiring a brave little fungi poking out of a cracked paving stone.
A low, rumbly growl curled through the fog. Two glowing eyes blinked open somewhere in the ruins.
Plasticfant sniffed the sweetly fungi, smiled, and kept strolling, spores twirling around him like fairy dust.

After all, it was a lovely Sunday. 💗