ArlenOrobono

Just some little thing I wrote when I was bored. Not really meant to make any sense .

His slightly squinted eyes scanned the oak grove rather intently. Everything seemed eerily still, everything but his trembling fingers, his knuckles white from clasping onto his camera so tightly. A gust of wind rustled the leaves resting amongst the forest floor, but it wasn't the leaves he was watching. His eyes again swept across the grove, his gaze this time focusing in on each oak tree.
A voice calling in the distance beckoned him home for dinner, and he scowled in disappointment. A wind blew again and the sound of leaves on the trees brushing against each other filled the grove. His fists clenched in anger, his breaths coming dangerously slow; The trees were laughing at him. He hung his head in silent defeat, and turned to leave.
As soon as his back had turned, every oak tree in the forest took a three-foot step towards the north.
"DAMN IT!"
He kicked the trunk of a nearby tree, yelped in pain, and trudged out of the forest.

***

It wasn't the taste of oatmeal he liked. It was dry and soggy, and in his mind, could only be made edible by adding far more sugar than is normally healthy. Oh no, it wasn't the taste he liked, it was something else entirely.
The oak trees seemed to glare at him whenever he brought oatmeal into the forest. Normal people would just write it off as them being trees, and standing there lookin' at ya is what they do. But he knew better.
Have you ever seen a tree with oatmeal on it? He certainly hadn't. He knew the oat trees up and left the oak trees in the dust long ago, putting significant distance between them in their race to migrate north. The oaks refer to this period of time as "Guo Chi", or series of great humiliations. In any case, this failure ensured the survival of the oak species, though they're completely ignorant of this fact.
As the oat trees traveled further and further northward, the temperature, of course, fell. Having originally migrated from more tropical regions, the oat trees slowly dwindled in numbers, and eventually died out, being replaced by an oat plant resembling tall grass.
To him, oatmeal was bland and boring, tasting vaguely of sugar. To the oaks, it was the taste of their bitter defeat.

Zensati

This was tedious and mindnumbing.

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KarmaVictim

Zensati, maybe you've heard of this neat little thing called 'constructive criticism'? Just because 'Dreamspace' didn't go over that well doesn't give you license to take it out on another writer.

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Roxane

I think you choose your words very well in the intro (I loved the first three of four sentences). Its not my kind of plot with personification of trees but that doesn´t matter. I did think you slacked of a little in the second part.

Just Jim

It's silly, it's fun. Sometimes you go out on a limb and you find something wonderful there. Arlen says he didn't intend it to make sense.

ps. Thanks for the welcome, Arlen
Jim

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ArlenOrobono

Thank you for the defense, Karma .
And thank you too, Roxanne ^.~. The second part was pretty much me trying to spit out a joke I came up with amongst my friends in biology class o.O.
And thank you Jim .

wren

I don't know whether this was supposed to be funny but I really liked it! I can just imagine the guy glowering spitefully at the trees (his imagined enemies) ¬_¬

Couple of things:

Your sentences tend to be a little back to front in places e.g. "Everything seemed eerily still, everything but his trembling fingers, his knuckles white from clasping onto his camera so tightly." could become "Everything was eerily still except him. He was clutching his camera so tightly to try and stop his fingers trembling that his knuckles were white."

The second part seems a little disconnected from the first part - I like the oatmeal thing, but I'm not sure why oatmeal suddenly happened.

But yeah, was fun and random

ArlenOrobono

Thank you wren .