‘But what if there is more than just digging tunnels?’
Find out why looking for more is not always what you and I need.
Last time I ended my Substack newsletter with this question the young worm had asked an older worm who had just saved him from burning to death.
What’s with the worm?
Nowadays many writers use animals or insects as head character in a story. Probably the most famous one is Winnie the Pooh. One of my big inspiration is the Dutch poet and writer Toon Tellegen. Many of his (children’s) books are about big and small animals or insects. With few words Tellegen gives them a human look-a-like character. Some even get to wear clothes! Usually they ahve deal with human life issues or emotions. Such as a birthday, going on a journey, feeling alone, grief, happiness etc. I like reading them as there is often a deeper layer to the story. Like the short story of the worm.
One morning I was sitting in the local park enjoying the sight of flowers opening up in the morning sun. Out of the ground a little pink figure pop up. It was the head of a worm. It seemed to be looking around and then quickly disappeared under the ground again. The short story ´Looking for more´ was born. Later I ran into a friend in the library. She was about to take out a children´s book she wanted to read the next day at work. To my amazement it had the title: Super Worm by Julia Donaldson! We had a good laugh about it.
So here is how the story continued..
(For those who missed the first part you can read it back here!)
‘But what if there is more to it than just digging a tunnel?’ asked the worm.
'More? What more could you want than this life?’
‘I won't know until I understand what 'more' means,’ the worm replied and slowly wriggled into the cool earth, leaving the old worm shaking his head.
'Young worms!? Will it ever get better?!' The old worm sighed.
From that moment on the young worm was determined to discover what ‘more’ meant. So he made a plan. He would first become the best tunnel digger in the garden. He mastered all the worm skills he needed to learn.
He would need it to commence part two of his plan: going on a journey to find out about ‘more’.
Spring turned into summer and by now the worm had risen among the worm and insect community to the talent of the season because of its digging and navigation skills. If he came across a fellow worm who asked where the potato field was, he immediately knew and point out the right tunnels. The worm enjoyed his acquired status.
However, he remained silent about his travel plans.
On a warm summer evening he crawled to the surface. The garden looked quiet and deserted. The worm climbed out of the ground, rolled on its side and enjoyed the last rays of sunlight, which slowly disappeared behind the pole’s where green beans were growing steadily upwards.
'Hey worm, are you careful not to get burned?' he suddenly heard a voice behind him. Immediately he rolled over and saw a black ant running towards him.
‘Ha ha, no, the sun is almost down!’
‘Fortunately, because I already had to carry away two deceased worm bodies today."
On hearing this sad news the worm fell into silence. They watched as the sky slowly filled with millions of stars. Then the worm broke the silence.
‘Hey ant, can I ask you something?’
'You can ask me anything!'
‘Have you ever been on a journey?’
“You mean, beyond this garden?”
'Yes that's what I mean.' shouted the worm enthusiastically.
'That was a long time ago, I was still a young ant and busy learning all the ant skills. Then I wondered if there is more to it than just doing what we ants are supposed to do in this life.'
‘You too?! asked the worm in surprise.
'Yes, me too. You're not the only one. Many creatures above and below ground wonder about this. But I've never heard anyone of your kind talk about this.’
'Once I asked an old worm. He had looked at me as if I had turned into a spider before his eyes! I haven't talked about it since. I dare to ask you. Then I have nothing to lose.'
‘Ah, what have you got to lose? The worst thing that can happen to you is that they laugh at you again. After that they will probably leave you alone. That's what happened to me too.’
'Oh? How did you do it then?'
'One day I decided it was time to discover if there was more than just life as an ant in this garden. I took my chance and traveled in a pot filled with dirt and a plant that was put in a bicycle bag by a human. After a long bike ride, the human stopped in a street teeming with cars and people. Moreover, there was a lot of noise and it smelled terribly. I immediately regretted my journey. The human opened a large gate and pushed the bike down an alley, away from the noise. From behind a leaf I saw another gate being opened. The human took the pot out of the bag and placed it on the ground. When it got dark, I crawled out of the pot and went exploring. It turned out that I had ended up in a small garden. There was no earth beneath me, only stone. I carefully made my way in search of softness.'
'And the human? Did the human notice that you had traveled with them?'
'Not at first. I enjoyed the new garden and the smells. Strangely enough, I immediately started doing the same things that I do in this large garden.'
'What do you mean?'
'For example, before I went on that journey, I fantasized that I could do completely different things, such as flying. Instead, I found peace just by roaming around the garden. As a result, I met ants of my kind who had also ended up in that garden whilst looking for the 'more’. Together we started digging a new nest underground. The human lived next to the garden. Once I tried to go inside. A very bad smell at the entrance made me so nauseous that I quickly ran away. Another ant pointed out the large, flat, round shapes near the door. That caused the smell. Apparently humans did everything they could to keep us from visiting their homes. While they could walk in and out of our living environment!'
‘Why didn't you travel further?’
'I wanted to, but the entire garden was surrounded by wooden walls that could be felt deep under the earth. Other ants had warned me that anyone who had climbed the wall or escaped gone under the gate had never returned.’
'Phew, so you were actually imprisoned there. How did you get back?' the worm asked curiously.
'In the bicycle bag! But it was close enough that I wouldn't have been able to tell it to you. On a warm summer evening we were all crawling just above the ground. We had a party because so many new offspring were born. Suddenly I heard an ant screaming to run away. The panic was great. Together with a group we ran to the bicycle bag. From there we watched helplessly as the human poured something liquid over our nest. The screams, the smell and then the silence. I will never forget it. After the human left we shouted at the surviving ants to come to us. And so we traveled back to this garden.’
The worm looked at the ant. The ant looked back and then slowly walked towards the tomato plants. Then he turned around and said:
'There is always 'more' to be found somewhere else. Wherever you go, in the end you just end up doing whatever you are meant to do in this life.’
The worm looked at the ant and sighed deeply:
‘I think I am going to sleep on it another night.’
Why do I write short stories?
Writing helped me to get rid of that harsh and formal social policy language that had creeped into my writing style. I share my writing journey and short stories. If you want to catch up reading how I found back my writing style start by reading: You are the main character of your life! Because you are!