Resistance
The red hair stood up on his long arms like crooked, sparce grass. The forest wind had died down to a breeze barely wafting the brittle hair, where he could see tiny refractions of color in each strand. The light was brighter today. Less forest, less shade. He broke off a thin stick and inserted it into the the mound. When he pulled it out, it was crawling with termites, a perfect breakfast. He picked a large leaf and wiped his face. The noise was getting closer by the hour. It sounded like a giant monster chomping and eating its way through the trees. Pulp paper and palm oil. Somewhere a woman rubs it on her face, feeds it to her kids. He sacrificed his family to it. The loggers killed the moms and took all the babies. Every precious thing can be sold, just like the forest he was in, noisy with orange machines, with trees falling, the sun relentless, blaring bright.
He flipped himself to the top branch and swung adroitly arm over arm to the next group of trees. The smell of diesel flared his nostrils. Trees crashed down in his direction. The steel-jawed monster was at his tree. The last tree. As it toppled he swung to the upper part. He looked across the now horizontal trunk and saw the wall of dark steel. Inside the machine the logger chewed on his toothpick. He was in a hurry. "Filho da puta!" he yelled.
The orangutan charged the steel jaws, burning hot from the sun. He pushed it hard with his hands, which hurt from the heat. The bulldozer lurched forward and he fell, defeated on the ugly ground. The monster clamped it's mouth finally around the top of the last tree in the group. The orangutan got up and ran as fast as he could across the countryside, now spiked with tree trunks. A clump of green trees still stood waiting in the distance.
He flipped himself to the top branch and swung adroitly arm over arm to the next group of trees. The smell of diesel flared his nostrils. Trees crashed down in his direction. The steel-jawed monster was at his tree. The last tree. As it toppled he swung to the upper part. He looked across the now horizontal trunk and saw the wall of dark steel. Inside the machine the logger chewed on his toothpick. He was in a hurry. "Filho da puta!" he yelled.
The orangutan charged the steel jaws, burning hot from the sun. He pushed it hard with his hands, which hurt from the heat. The bulldozer lurched forward and he fell, defeated on the ugly ground. The monster clamped it's mouth finally around the top of the last tree in the group. The orangutan got up and ran as fast as he could across the countryside, now spiked with tree trunks. A clump of green trees still stood waiting in the distance.