I was walking along the river when I felt myself falling. I landed with a thud. I looked around. It was pitch black. I saw a small yellow glow coming towards me. It was a lamp. Faintly, you could see a little face looking up at you.
It was hard to see the details of the man’s face, but you could see that he wasn’t your ordinary person. Or perhaps I’m being mean there, he was actually a midget. I asked him why he would want to stay here, underground, in the middle of nowhere.
‘People,’ he began, ‘don’t like other people…that are different. So as soon as I was old enough to leave home…I did. Nobody seemed to accept that I was different. I tried moving elsewhere, but even people there didn’t like me. So I was forced to live here, underground…in the middle of nowhere.’
Although his story was short and quick. It was enough to touch you…enough to make you feel his sadness. So I asked him ‘And you don’t feel angry or upset with these people do you?’ He just sighed and said ‘I do, but they just won’t let me back into town…to let me tell them what they have done.’
By now, I was almost crying.
So every day, on my bike, I visit the little man, who was kicked out of his home town, and has nowhere to live. But underground, in the middle of nowhere.
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