A/N: So, this is an allegory that I wrote for my English class...Enjoy.
The Wild Boy
On the shoreline of an empty and deserted cove, where the water was restless and the sea air was thick, there was a wild boy. This wild boy had electric hair, long gangly limbs, and lazy hips. His tanned skin was coated with a clumpy layer of moist sand that rested between his toes and behind his ears.
Every morning, the wild boy arose with the sun as it licked his salty wet skin with the burn of a new day. And every morning when the wild boy arose, he grinned the type of grin that only a wild boy such as himself could produce. Because, you see, this wild boy was new. Not young, not old—just new. He knew nothing of the world beyond his cove. He knew not of war or of violence. He was happy simply because he knew nothing of sadness. He did not know how he came to live on the shore. He had no recollection of a family (for he did not know what a family was) and he had no memory of ever being birthed (or perhaps hatched?). He was simply there. He knew no language—only feeling. The wild boy was a boy of great feeling. He was content and he was glad only because he knew no better. He smiled because it was natural and he laughed because it simply felt right. The wild boy was pure and he was peaceful because he knew of nothing else.
The wild boy was a simple creature.When he was hungry he fished and when he was tired he slept. He hadn’t a care in the world. Life for the wild boy was routine. He did the same thing day in and day out and he was quite content with that. He was never curious about whether there was life beyond his cove; he had always just assumed that it was not possible.
On a morning no different from any other, the wild boy arose with the sun and grinned his wild grin (just as he had every day). But when he turned his wild head to bid the sea a good morning, he saw yellow. At first he had felt that perhaps it was the sun; however, it did not hurt his wild eyes to gaze upon it. It was small and oddly shaped and the brightest shade of yellow that his wild eyes had ever seen. He sat and watched the yellow thing as it bobbed up and down in the water beside him and upon further observation, the wild boy realized that the yellow thing reminded him of the flying creatures that glided over his cove day and night.
After a moment, curiosity began to nibble at the wild boy’s mind as he found himself shuffling closer to the yellow thing. Cautiously, he leaned towards it and sniffed it, but the only scent it carried belonged to that of the sea (and also to something he had never inhaled before). Reaching out, the wild boy grabbed ahold of the yellow thing and lifted it into his wild hands. The thing felt smooth, like a stone that had been worn by the crashing waves of an angry sea; however, it was also light, almost as if it carried nothing within it. Testing this idea, the wild boy gave the thing a timid squeeze, but quickly dropped it back into to the water with a deep ‘SPLUNK’ after it had released a shrill squeak. The wild boy sat stunned as he watched the yellow thing bob and dunk on the surface of the water. What could it be? Had he been anything other than a wild boy, he would have known that this yellow thing was no more than a little rubber duck. But because he was in fact a wild boy, he saw it only as a strange creature that made silly and loud noises.
Gathering himself, the wild boy reached for the little duck once more and gave it another, more confident, squeeze. Again, the duck squeaked. However, this time the boy was not startled. This time, he let out a wild laugh and squeezed the little duck again and again until his wild body shook with glee.
Quickly, the boy rose to his wild feet, lifted the little duck above his head, and watched as the warm light of the morning sun wrapped its arms around it. As mentioned earlier, the wild boy was a boy of great feeling, and in that moment, he had felt as though that day would become the best day of his wild life. And with the little duck in tow, the wild boy set out on an adventure.
