It began like any other day.
Collecting the eggs from the goose and tuning the harp.
Sudden shaking and the earth seemed to split into pieces, a jolting, heart wrenching squirm. The earth moaned and groaned, writhing like a snake.
As suddenly as it began it all ended.
Man. Someone had planted the seed.
Mumbling angrily, he stomped out, leaving the room. The harp continued to play, a lilting tune that wove in and out of the ears, strange and artificial, no life behind the invisible hands.
More gardening. Planting seeds in the ground, watering and nurturing them. Like a mother goose nurturing her eggs, encouraging them to grow strong and full.
A shout and scream. Terrible things flash through the mind, like a bad movie. Horrible things that could happen, things that were always feared could come true, perhaps doing so right now.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Heavy pounding and heavy running. A quick, high pitched shout and a growl.
Retreating to the pantry, hoping to seek relief from the terror of man, the greedy, forever taking man. The harp had stopped playing and a cold hand grips the heart as looking in the kitchen reveals the goose and the harp are no longer there.
Another jolt of the earth, swift and unending. A continuous falling and an unearthly scream.
Then it is all over.