Punch And Nihilist
The baby monkey had never known silence like this before. Inside the cage, there had always been noise — chattering, rustling, movement. But after the others turned their backs on him, after the pushing and the cold shoulders, the loudest sound was the ache in his chest. So he left. He didn’t understand why the cage door was open. Maybe it had always been slightly open. Maybe it was waiting for him. Clutching his small plush monkey — the only thing that had never pushed him away — he stepped into the golden light and followed the long road that led toward the mountain in the distance. Days passed. The world changed around him — warm sunlight, cold nights, whispering winds. He was small against the vast earth, but he kept walking. When he felt afraid, he hugged the plush toy tighter. When he felt tired, he looked at the mountain and imagined something better waiting on the other side. On the far side of that same mountain, a penguin was walking away from the sea. The iceberg...