Call me wallace
Because I'm flawless
Or call me Jim
'Cause I love to swim
I am many things
You can call me anything
But I don't care
Because my real name is Bruce
There are a few things I probably should have figured out before I jumped.
For example, it might have been a good idea to ask someone knowledgeable in the subject if wombats can fly. It also could have been prudent to check if there were any parachutes or wingsuits lying around. Or even a lifeboat.
The problem with both of these ideas, however, is the fact that I didn't have time for any of that. It was jump now or jump never. And I am proud to say that any self-respecting wombat would have done the same thing in my place.
Another problem is that I was not accompanied by anyone who might know the answer to either of my crucial (possibly life-changing) dilemmas, and so in asking would only waste further time in which my crafty escape plan could have been thwarted.
Oh Well. Sometimes we must make the best of a situation with what we are given. If not, we would spend our lives always looking for something better, for the perfect situation. And we would be very boring pieces of matter.
That's right, pieces of matter. I am a scientific thinker. At least, that is one of the terms that was used to describe me back at home. But there were lots of names they used. There were oh so many names. They weren't bad names, but they weren't good. They were nothing more than labels. I was a wombat, and a scientific thinker, and a forager, and a swimmer, and a mammal, and a male, and a diplomat to the platypi. I was Mr. Higgins and Professor and Sir. But never, ever, would anyone follow the simple instructions which I so politely gave upon meeting them.
Call Me Bruce.
And the humans didn't humor my simple request either. The most civilized race on the planet did nothing less than the exact opposite. And that was why I had to jump.
The water is approaching at a tremendous rate. My prospects of staying alive look to be pretty slim.
But hey, it's better than going to a zoo.
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This is a fun sort of story, with the added touch of a different POV than what most people would use to express themselves; I would say that the wombat is not the most common narrator. This sort of twist on what is more common was unexpected and rather amusing. I appreciated it. Despite this, I did feel that your character had some air of humanity in him, the type that accompanies disappointed expectation. I felt that your character was wanting a friend. Perhaps I was wrong, but that seemed to me to be a smaller element of the piece. It would be awesome if you could elaborate on that next time. I also liked how you let us know from the beginning what was happening. As Ms. P said, it is the journey to the end that counts. I really wondered up to the revealing point, why Bruce needed to jump and off of what. These too might be subjects further described in future sections of this story. Thanks!
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