Life from the Point of View of Hair - Tatsuya Seki

When he was born, I was born too. I am called hair and black hair. First, I was a little hair, but when he was grow up, I was grow up too. I and he are one in body and mind, but at times he cut the mine, that then very scary as me. When he was elementary school student, I always had healthy hair, so I didn’t have damaged. I am called beautiful straight hair. When he was junior high school student, he started using hair iron and dyed hair, so I have keep to damaged. Iron is very damaged. I received a many damaged, also I was terrible. It pains me even to think of it. Now, my amusement is go to hair cut salon, because I lost the damaging hair, so I will be happy. When he was high school student, I had more damaged. He started permanent hair. He had go to the beauty parlor. I was a shock, so I hope to be his straight hair.

Sojourn at the Safari - Justin Gauthier

I was so sick of all of the complaining my daughters have been doing. Today was the day I decided to take my family to the safari because my oldest daughter has been begging me to take her ever since she was told about the animals that are there, so yesterday morning I finally gave in and today we are on our way to adventure. The animals there walk and talk upright, wear clothes and swing around giant cameras that they need to place on their shoulders to carry. These cameras wouldn’t be hard for me to hold up because I am a silver back gorilla. During the entire trip the humans were walking around us and taking pictures. As soon as the trip started I wanted to leave, but the kids were clearly having a good time. At one point I tried to get them home with a bribe. I said that I would prepare a large lunch, but the kids were completely ready to skip lunch and just wait until supper so that they could continue exploring and visiting the humans. That evening, when the people all left, we went back to our home. After a long day of walking around and meeting humans my children were all very happy. My only son said that his favorite one was the one holding his head when we took the picture together. People are annoying but it wouldn’t be fun living without them.

Life from the point of view of the Bass Guitar! - Yuma Sato

I’m four strings bass guitar. Our music shop is quiet big, so I met many various customers at the music shop every day. I’m very expensive bass guitar, so everybody passed me all the time, and sometimes I felt lonely, but I have a lot of friends. Then my pleasure is talk to my friends all the time! My best friend is five strings bass guitar. He hasn’t his name, so he called “bass of boss”. He is very kind, and he has good popularity, so everybody sometimes asks his advice. He is very reliable. However yesterday, he was bought! When he was bought, I’m felt too much loneliness! I pray to been bought too! One day, one of customer stopped in front of me. Then she permitted for music shop assistant, so she took me in her hand, and she played me very well. She looks like not rich, but she has some savings. Then she bought me. She jumped for happy, and I was so happy! I had a feelings that I would soon very happy.

Thanks for Writing!

Dear Creative Writing Students: Thanks so much for your lovely stories. I really enjoyed reading your work and watching your plays. I hope you had a good time working together and that you will keep in touch after this term is over. A friend shared a nice poem with me this morning. I would like to share it with you. Please check out "How to be Perfect" on The Writer's Almanac at... http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2012/05/30 Enjoy the rest of your summer!

What Happened Next - Shosei Urata

What happened next !? In the jungle, food is decreasing to live for any creatures that live there. In the situation like it, there are five mountain gorillas live in one of jungle all over the world. There are five mountain gorillas in the dry land. So these mountain gorillas are always looking for some food to eat for the sake of living for a long time. But there is no food, so they feel pain from a food crisis. One day, one man comes through this jungle. He is a well-known cameraman whose new photograph collection is going to be published next month in Japan. His works are on display at the city hall in Japan, so he is famous in Japan. He is going to the majestic river with a view to take pictures to publish an article I his new photograph collection. He expects to take some pictures of the grandeur of nature there, but he loses his way in this large jungle. And he comes across five mountain gorillas in this jungle. They walk around the cameraman, and they stiff at him and gazed at his face. The cameraman is afraid of these gorillas and this situation he is in. Suddenly, he has a good idea In the jungle, food for living things like animals and flowers to live for a long time is on the increase, nature has recovered from it in past. Nature feels high-spirited except for one kind of living things. Ten years ago, because of the new creature that created by throwing a banana by a man who was a famous Japanese cameraman, the field recovered from bad condition to good condition. The new creature made from a mix of 5 mountain gorillas is named 5 MG! 5 MG means five mountain gorillas. 5 MG cultivates grain and he is looking for some living things to live with him. He finds the living thing like himself. He runs toward it. But it disappears soon. He felt sad suddenly. He has been living in this place for ten years by himself. He is always living with some food and some flowers that are created in the field by him, but they can’t talk about something with him, so he feels more and more lonely. He goes to bed and thinks about his life. He had many gorilla friends on the earth like him in past. He fought against many gorillas because his thoughts came into conflict with thoughts of others. He ate some bananas because he liked bananas much better than his gorilla friends on the earth. He saw a strange living thing that was called a human cameraman and he saw the cameraman took some pictures of him with flashes. He jumped higher than in the past. He lifted things so much heavier than in the past. He became so much bigger and taller than in the past. He felt he got strong power at that time. He parted from the human cameraman. And then he cultivated grain and flowers. He saw everything in the jungle became lively. He saw many living things in the jungle he had never seen before. He met many kinds of flowpe but he had not met living things like him. He wanted someone to talk about something with him for a long time. He felt more sad than in past. And he thought about many things around him. And he noticed that he was in the fire. He was closed in on the fire. He realized why there was fire in front of him. He realized that the fire lied because other living things like human beings set the fire with a view to kill him. He shouted and he was going to escape from this situation from now on. But he thought he could not escape from there, he gave up and he stood straight without moving, just thinking about his short life. He closed his eyes slowly. A Long time has passed. He woke up and he noticed that he was alive in the zoo in Japan. He looked around himself, he saw the living thing like him. He was called “Hi, gorilla” by a man who had a camera. He realized his name was gorilla and there were five gorillas here. He thought he was dreaming for a long time. All things were a dream. He felt easy. He took it for granted that he was brought up by human beings, so he decided to be quiet. If you see a quiet gorilla in the zoo, it would be one part of 5 MG’s heart.

Young and Happy - Melinne Hay

Young and happy, yet it was taken short as a wicked storm blew, breaking me in such a cruel manner, ripping me harshly from my mother. Not yet ready to break free nor was I ready to feel so cold and alone. I cried out to my mother as I was ripped from her loving embrace. She stretched and reached down, still fighting the winds that bullied her, only to barely miss me. She called out my name in despair crying out lulls of comfort, trying to calm me down to tell me everything would be alright again; that once this chilling rain had subsided we could and would be happy and warm again. I knew that there would never be such a time – with the crashing impact of a few steam trains hitting my whole body seemed only to confirm my doubts. How I felt so dead, curled up on the forest floor as young grass laughs and cheers rejoicing in the feeling of the refreshing rain. To me the harsh rain just felt cold and unforgiving, I felt dead. I don’t know how long I waited there curled, I watched as the warm sun go up and go back down too many times to count. I just sat there – until some strong hands had taken me up to inspect me. I begged him not to, just to let me wallow in my self-pity, just let my days pass by as I knew my doom was only a few years away, that I would spend it in solitude. He acted like he couldn’t hear my pleas. I watched his unusually striking green eyes look over me. I felt suddenly naked and exposed. We stood there looking at each other for a few seconds that felt like an eon to pass in all reality it was probably only a few fleeting moments. He finally nodded in approval and the kid with fire had pulled me back into his container roughly made from an animal of some sort. Then I felt warm. I had taken a ride in his pouch of some sort for a while, but soon others like me were added and we were packed together, fuzzy and content. Within a few hours I had found my saviors name and some others things about him. He slid me out of the case and bringing the edge of his rather dull knife the top of my head and with one stroke after another he worked methodically and not settling for anything less the prefect. He talked to me while he worked. He had a rough voice for someone so small, it was rather apparent that English was not his native language but he talked to me and another boy who couldn’t be much older then five, the same striking green eyes, who came running towards us. “Ian, Ian!” he chipped happily running towards Ian. Ian had put me down on the grass for a second to free his hands to pick up the younger kid who wanted attention so desperately. I didn’t mind though – the ground felt nice and possibly because I knew that he would soon pick me back up. “Hey wee lad, ya got somethin’ fer me?” Ian smiled picking up the blonde and swung him around a little before sitting back down putting him on his lap with a smile. I watched on curiously. The boy gave him a wide smiled and settled down comfortably on his lap. “Of course! I got you some herbs, you promised you’d make me tea if I could find the right herbs see!” Unraveling the bunched up part of his green tunic to reveal a mess of leaves and a few strands of grass that had gotten in the mix. Ian smiled softly. “Course Arthur, we’ll make ya some tea, I’ll catch dinner after I finish makin’ arrows ‘lright lad?” Who I assumed was Arthur nodded and looked down at his pile of herbs rather proudly. I smiled watching the two young kids have fun together and just like I thought Ian hand picked me back up and started working on my half finished point. “Are we going to eat something other then rabbit today?” Arthur had finally spoken up after a while possible, the quiver in his voice made my heart just break into several small pieces. Had they not have a mother? Or a father? Maybe a place to return too? “… Aye, I’ll see what I can do ‘lright?” Ian kisses the back of Arthurs head and slid me back into the pouch with the other recently made arrows we all looked at each other silently agreeing that we all had to do something for these two. We had to help in our own way; getting them food perhaps something bigger then a rabbit.

Life of a Watch - Kensei Shimizu

My parent made me very gentle kindness man. When I was growing up, he taught me “Don’t stop the beat to live,” and I promised that. After 2 years, my family’s house was on fire, so we lost everything. Then my parents’ friend needed a worker who could follow him every hour and minute. In that time, I was the only person in my family who wasn’t old and unhealthy. Therefore, I got a job that could be forever, so I worked with him. That was such a wonderful time for me because he always relied on me. After 10 years, government people find his company blinds income & cheat tax. Therefore, they had to go bankrupt, and I was fired. Next owner wasn’t so kind because he usually forgot to take me to his working place. Finally, a thief came to his house and the thief stole me. Thief brought me to the market and tried to sell me. In the black market, I found such a beautiful lady in the next rack. Therefore, I tried to talk her, but some long big old man make noisy sound, and he shouted, “Ding, Dorn, Ding, Dorn” in every hour. After a month, therefore I tried to talk to with shame. After that she and I were became close friends. That was the most wonderful time of my life... Because if I asked, “Tick-tock, tick-tack?” Then she answered, “Tick-tick, tick-tack!” And wonderful time past easier. One day, she left here. It was so sad, so I started to move tacitly. After ten years, my heart stopped forever.

A Life Always Flowing - Sara Keam

I have a bed yet I never sleep. I have a mouth but I never eat, I only occasionally speak to those in the right place at the right time and only then I babble on and on. I am constantly on the move, watching everything as I pass by never once double taking until my course links me back to the start. I can’t stop on this set course, like the stories I occasionally hear involving a toy in the shape of a train that a child would get at Christmas, what ever that is, building their desire track to place the toy on. Nyet, I am not a train with a course that someone can so easily make for me, and nor do I want to be perceived as something like that. My constant hunger makes me lap against the stones of my bed as I open wide for boats to cross over my churning body. The humans that live here named me Volga. Why, I will never comprehend. Although something that the humans do know and that I will agree with is that I am powerful and free, yet what most may not know is that I am gentle and bound to a path. And yet I cannot be entirely sure of this since I pass by all the humans in my haste. Occasionally some will ride with me along this track but they too will leave me. Da, they all leave me. To some, I am cold, like a prickling knife on your skin compared to the rare hot and humid summer days, stifling the choking heat and embracing them in my cold hug. To some, I am the hands that lift, hold and carry them to another place, an acquaintance of some sort as they would call me. Some see me as danger, something that one should not go near else their very world as they know will end, and to others I am a supporter for the life that goes on all around. But it doesn’t matter what they think of me. Nyet, not when they all leave me. The trees wave bye as I rush by, foaming in my attempt at escape along the edge of my bed. Kids leave me shortly after playing with me, and it’s not because of anger or spite that I took one blonde girl’s bright red toy ball with me. I just really wanted someone or something to help with the loneliness, to help fill in the void. I pass by happy families, all eating together, and realized just how truly I am alone. And then one day under the velvety black blanket of a nighttime sky I met her. A woman fair of skin wadding into the depths, blue eyes closing. I pull at her to push her towards the edge away from the strong current in me but she too fought back. And then she sank down and for once, a human, a beautiful human allowed me to fully embrace her. To carry her, lift her. It was a beautiful and touching moment, a moment when we became one, when human and river became one. Even today she is with me in spirit and we talk, no more am I lonely. Da, I am not lonely anymore.

Life from the Perspective of a Basketball - Taro Goto

I am called basketball, because I am used to play basketball. I almost everyday use to play basketball. Klas is nothing to do, so everyone plays something at the outside. Then Klas students often play basketball or soccer. When I use to play basketball, players flung me on the ground. It is so hurt for me. Ground is so hard and flung me against the ground. All Klas students are so rude. However, when I shot by Klas students and go into the goal, that is so good a state of mind. Klas students shoot me and I fly in a beautiful the ridge of the mountain. Then I go into the basket goal. That’s so happy. I always feel so hurts, when Klas students play basketball, but I want to use me to play basketball. I like to use to play basketball. When all Klas students go to school, I’m in the locker of C-7. Until all Klas students finish all classes, I’m so boring and free. Then I think please finish all classes and let’s play basketball to use me. The felling of go into the basket goal is can't abandon my feeling no matter what happens. I can hardly wait for the playing basketball and use me at the moment. This is a my sweet of my life!

Life from the Perspective of Hair - Vanessa Froese

We’ve been together for my entire life, for her entire life. Sydney and I. the colour of me and the colour of her went perfectly together. As she grew taller, I grew longer. She would play with me too. She enjoyed making me look nice, she curled me, straightened me, she even put me up once in a while. That was my favorite style of all; I could see everything from up there, what Sydney saw, I saw. One day I noticed something unusual as Sydney was playing with me. I had never seen it before and it frightened me. The ends of me were splitting. What does this mean for me? Am I dying? I noticed Sydney reach for a pair of scissors, and they were coming towards me! What is she doing?! I thought we were friends, companions! This cannot be happening, if she cuts me, life will never be the same, ever. The blades were getting closer by the second and my mind began to race with horrible thoughts. What is she doing? How could she betray me like this? It was done. Part of me was gone forever and it would never come back. I will never see Sydney like I once had.

Life from the Point of View of a Pair of Skates - Taylor Wyatt

I was a fresh, clean and an unbroken in pair of skates when she first bought me. I wasn’t the best or newest tool in the shed but I was the hardest working pair of skates there was and I would do my best to perform well for my new owner. She has had me for a whole two years now! Although, I hope my time is not coming to an end, you know how it is, people change and grow out of things and into new ones. Now, a little bit about my experiences so you can truly understand what a great life I have had. I have been to many different provinces in Canada several times including British Columbia, Ontario, Alberta, Saskatchewan and Quebec for Ringette. All of my experiences in these places were equally enjoyable and I made so many friends during the games. It was amazing being able to hit the ice anywhere between 3-7 times in only a few days during these tournaments and being able to hang out with the other athletes in the change room while the team was warming up. I always enjoyed chatting with Bauer, she was beautiful with jet black material and yellow trim; probably the fastest on the team, but I always managed to find a way to keep up because, like I said before, I’m the hardest worker there is. I would always be the hardest worker for Taylor until the day I retire.

Life from the Point of View of an Eraser - Noriyuki Matsumae

I lived in a stationary shop. I had a lot of friends in there such as pencils, color pens, scissors and rulers. Whenever someone always bought them, I lost my friends. I lived in there for a long time. No one bought me. In the day, a man bought me. A man named Nori. He is a high school student. I felt the strain. I do not know where I lived. He arrived his house and he put me in the pencil box. It is dark, but there are many stationaries. Someday he erased me. I will die. I thought it and I felt fear. This is a mission as an eraser.

Live from the Point of View of a Pencil - Mikino Kobayashi

They called me stick, but I was lost someday. I was always moving and writing. It was easy to write like I solved the difficult question easily. I was a necessity, like a toothbrush and key. Her name was Tommy, and she liked me very much even if I was just a stick. She always held me, and we were always together. We drew pictures, and wrote pleasantly. I was so happy and I desired to be with her. Suddenly, I was in darkness. Tommy was not here. Nothing was to be seen in the utter darkness. I was thrown away like dumped garbage, because I was absolutely worthless. I got small, and went in the garbage. No one helped me. I was alone. As time went by, I met Eraser in the garbage. It became light slowly, and we were talking about why Tommy threw us away. The same as I, he was in the garbage all too soon. She’d gone without our noticing it. In the past, we were needed, wanted…loved. However, she found a new friend. They were alone. However, we got along and we became friends. When I made a mistake, Eraser corrected my mistake. We got small together, but no one used us, because we were not new. But then Mary came. At first we were concerned for her. I was afraid of her touching me. Was she using me? I was not cool. She must sharpen me many times. The beginning, I was a pencil with a sharp point, but I lost it at once. I was afraid. I could not forget if she touched me. I was confused. However, she was not like Tommy. Mary used us calmly, and we were getting along. We told each other. I was moving, and it was as light as a feather. She used us kindly. She did not lose us even if we were getting small because she always put us in a case, which it is her favorite. We were always together. As time passed, Eraser and I got small like elderly people. Mary could not use us. We could not move and draw pictures with her. However, we were happy, because there was nothing changed about our life. We were kept on the desk while sleeping, so a new pencil was moving and writing with her. All of the pencils were happy like me.

Life from the Perspective of an Elevator - Kyla Wyryha

I remember my younger days when my doors were shiny silver and my buttons were glowing, waiting to be pushed. Everyday I looked forward to people entering and exiting through my shiny doors on the 28 floors of this hotel. Mostly families with many children. Sometimes the children would push every single button sending my to every floor, empty. It was such a waste of time. This was only the beginning of my problems. After just a few days of running, the music that continuously played drove me insane. The same song played over and over. I am certain the guests got sick of it too. Some days just as I was about to take off, you would see an arm sneak between my doors, stopping them. Someone eager to come on would then realize that I’m already full and end up having to wait anyways. This made me really angry. Now, 33 years later, my doors are tarnished and I squeak every time I pass a floor. My life is full of ups and downs and people are always pushing my buttons. I’m tired of it.

Life from the Perspective of a Guilty Knife - Sean Vincent

Many people believe that all knives are like Swiss army knives. That we can do any job, in any environment, without experiencing any wear and tear. That we don’t know when we’re being misused, mistreated, or generally abused. That we can keep performing, over and over, with the same level of mechanical precision necessary to complete any task laid before us. And that we don’t care what we’re cutting, as long as we’re cutting something. All things misconceptions add up to probably the greatest lie the human race has ever manufactured. The fact is that we aren’t some kind of bionic super-utensils, and that we are made to do only one thing: cut. But there are some things that we just weren’t made to cut. I used to be just a simple dicing knife, but that was before my life was turned inside out. I wasn’t one of those suave, hand-crafted artisan knives, but I definitely wasn’t one of those name-brand slackers either. I was a strong knife, confident of my seven-inch long, one-and-a-half-inch wide blade, which I used to slice, dice and chop anything that may lay on my cutting board. Celery, onions, chicken, lettuce, potatoes, broccoli, salmon. Name the meat or vegetable and I’ve diced it into pieces so fine you could eat them like a liquid. I was sharp too, sharper than most, and grateful for the massaging touch of the kitchens built in sharpener. I was a role model to the other knives, and they felt both envy and respect when they looked upon my smooth, shining body. But that’s just it. I was a role model, until one fateful evening when my career took a turn in the worst possible direction. My caretakers, Alice and Jacob, had always taken good care of me, and in return, I gave them my body and soul as theirs to use. With my gently curving body and stiff back, they used me as a paintbrush to paint a beautiful love scene between carrots, potatoes, and meat over the blank canvasses that were their plates. That was, until that ill-fated evening when I lost all sense of right and wrong. I was sleeping peacefully with all the other knives in the knife block, enjoying a dream in which I was the strongest knife that ever lived, able to cut anything, even steel! Then, without warning, I was suddenly yanked from my euphoric state, only to find myself four inches deep in an ingredient I was unfamiliar with. Rising sleepily from rest, I tried to figure out what this strange new ingredient was. It reminded me a little bit of a thanksgiving turkey, given that I could feel heat all around me, along with the gentle pressure of its internal organs against my hard body. Was it duck? Perhaps it was some kind of pheasant I hadn’t encountered before. No, none of these things fit what I was now feeling. The heat was gentler than the intense heat I was used to from cooked turkey, and it brought with it a sense of wrongness that I just couldn’t shake off. In fact, the whole situation felt…wrong, as if I’d found something I wasn’t meant to cut. Again, I tried to shake the feeling that what I was doing was wrong, but no matter how hard I tried, the feeling remained. Ignoring it wasn’t an option anymore either, because I could now feel the warmth of its blood running down my body and onto my handle, which I now realized, was being held in a vice grip. I recognized the hand as Jacob’s, and noticed that I was being rotated, my body warped because of the force. My curiosity multiplying about the strange creature I found my head buried inside, I held my back straight at attention as I was slowly removed from my fleshy sheath, still rotating all the while. As soon as my head was free, I saw what the strange creature was. Then the horror set in. I was frozen in disbelief for a moment as I contemplated what I had just seen. As I tried to avert my gaze, I couldn’t help but stare at the inch-and-a-half wide hole, slowly vomiting out a stream of crimson liquid from Alice’s chest, that I couldn’t deny as blood. Then I looked up at Jacob, and was horrified to see a crooked smile stretching across his blood-spattered face. He and Alice locked eyes, both of them knowing what was about to happen. Standing as still as a statue, and holding me at his side, Jacob watched as the last of Alice’s life drained from her eyes. Satisfied at his handiwork, he grabbed a towel from above the sink and began wiping Alice’s blood off of me, his accomplice. As he calmly placed me back into the knife block with the other knives, they began sharing their own stories, bearing startling similarities to what was happening now. But I wasn’t listening. All I could think of was the burning sensation that now plagued the exact locations where Alice’s blood had flown not moments ago. The gentle warmth I had felt had now transformed into an angry burning. As I panicked, and the other knives continued to try and console me, I noticed Jacob take an expensive bottle of wine from the pantry, pour himself a glass, and sit down at the table next to Alice’s body. What he said next has haunted my nightmares ever since. He slowly raised his glass, as if toasting with the moon itself, and said: “Here’s to another night of good hunting”.

Life from the Point of View of a Dress - Koko Sonoyama

I am a dress. Dress is a special cloth, so I am not worn everyday my owner. My owner doesn’t like party, so she wears me few times. She is a quietly, so she doesn’t attract attention. I know she want to change herself. She wants to be full of life. I know she is a very pretty and her thinking is girlish, too. That’s why I use my magical ability. When she is invited to a party, she wears me. She doesn’t wear makeup usually, but she tries to wear makeup especially go to the party. She tries to be beautiful so that she won’t be inferior me. Then, she becomes more and more beautiful. My magical ability is to be beautiful by her. I have a magical ability like this, but I have a worry. I am sometimes envious to everyday cloths. I am not worn daily. I always feel loneliness. I am always in the closet. In there, I feel cramped and it is not good smell because of repellent. The repellent protect to harmful insects, but I don’t want to be in the closet all the time. One-piece is like me, but it is only more casual than me. One-piece and me are similar, but one-piece is worn usually, but I am not worn usually. It is my little worry. However, I stele my worry to think, “I am special cloth.” The special cloths are not worn everyday. They are worn only special day. I can be together when she feels happy. I can change her who not same as usual. When she wears me, she is a very beautiful and chic woman. She wears me with pretty barrette. Usually, she doesn’t wear some hair ornaments, but she wears this only party with me. I can give a courage her. When she was 15 years old, she was invited to a Christmas party. A boy who she was kind of interested in was invited to this party, too. Her friend said to declare my owner’s love for him. My owner didn’t have any confidence until before party. I change her can declare. If she wore me, she could get courage. She went to the party, as she was full of courage. After all, she went wrong to declare, but she could change herself. That’s why it was my special ability. I like to be useful for her. She seldom wears me, but I like the time that be worn because when she wears me, she must be happy.

Life from the Point of View of a Bright Guitar - Masahiro Sakuramoto

They called me Jacksonstars. Who are they? They are guitarists. I had a blue body. I was once at music instrument shop with my brothers and sisters, but a boy bought me. His name was Masa. When he looked me at first time, he said, “That’s cool!” He tried to play me in the shop. After that, he decided to buy me. I was played everyday by him. Sometimes, I went to park with him, and he played me. when I went to rock concert with him, he played me hard. Then, I felt the strain because there were many people in front of him and me. Two years ago, we came to Switzerland. Even now he plays me everyday, and we play at the concert every term.

Gluttonous Gorilla - Tatsuya Seki

There are many big Gorillas and a little Gorillas, also there is cameraman. A little gorilla loved pineapples. The cameraman had interest for him. He never had enough. When his mother gave him leaves to eat. He said, “I don’t want this material”. He ate pineapples for breakfast. He ate it again for lunch, also he ate pineapples at snack time. At dinner, he ate a bunch of bamboo grass. The cameraman had surprised. The cameraman thought he ate so much pineapple that he never wanted to see it again, so why does he like pineapples? His mom gave him a warning. “You are greedy friend.” If you don’t stop eating pineapples, I am afraid that you will change to yellow! Then one day, it has happened. That greedy friend ate too many pineapples and he changed the sunny yellow skins. His mother said, “You must on a diet.” A little Gorilla changed his diet. He ate apples, oranges, peaches, grapes, melons, watermelon, strawberry, pear, persimmon, fig, pickles, and bananas and every other kind food. Therefore, a little Gorilla grew up into a big strong ape. When he stopped yellow skin, his mom was very pleased to do. Now he looked like all his relatives, eating fruits and bunch of bamboo grass. After two years, that Gorilla loved cheese fondue. Cheese fondue has a raw material of wine, so it will be possible drunk. The cameraman was examined again. His favorite food was changed, so repeat before life.

Mountain Gorilla's Park - Yuma Sato

Last Sunday, our research members and I went to mountain gorilla’s park, and there were a lot of mountain gorillas, so we met a lot of mountain gorillas. We came to mountain gorilla’s park with the intention for the purpose of studying mountain gorilla’s ecological system, so we were going to learn from our experience, and we tried to take movies and photos. Mountain gorillas were very tame, so they took a movie and photos to their heart’s content. One of the research members looks like mountain gorilla and a little bit muscular, so he called “Mr. gorilla” in our laboratory. Of course, all of mountain gorillas like him. On the other hand, one of the big gorilla called “silver back” because he has a silver fur on his back. Maybe he is a mountain gorilla’s group of father. After that a small child gorilla walked up to our “Mr. gorilla”, so he made fun of the small gorilla, then father of silver back got very angry, and he attacked to “Mr. gorilla”. Maybe, silver back felt so jealous. Mr. gorilla was seriously wounded, and he was hospitalized few weeks.