Once upon a time, on a small-ish planet named Earth, my little life began. I was born a human being, which is bigger than a porcupine, smaller than a cow, faster than a caterpillar and slower than a horse.
Mum and Dad were happy when I arrived. I also had a sister. Things got a bit less happy while I was growing up because sometimes we’d argue and then we’d feel a bit lonely. But later on, we shared some happy years together and ended up close. Then they died.
My own life was short-ish. Many of the trees in my garden lasted longer than I did. Overall, I really enjoyed my life as a human, though there were occasional bumps in the road. My favourite thing was having a beautiful daughter. She had two beautiful children. I loved them and they loved me. Then I died too.
That’s pretty much it.
Actually, no. I’ve just thought of a couple of other details you might find interesting:
When I was alive, I’d often leave footprints where I walked. The ones that stood out the most were on the white sandy beach near my home. Once I trod in some gluggy black mud near a creek. Those footprints really stood out too. In time, the waves and wind and rain erased all my footprints. If you went back to any of those places now, you’d never know I’d been there.
I had quite a lot of friends, mostly humans but also some other animals, mainly cats and dogs, as well as four rabbits, some birds (including a very loud cocky named Crackers who ended up being sent to the zoo) and a family of sex-crazed guinea pigs. Oh, and there were some smelly silkworms I briefly farmed in an old shoe-box. I loved my friends, though I let some of them down at times. Still, we treasured one another. Many of them kept thinking about me after I’d gone but eventually they all died and after that no-one ever thought about me again.
There’s one nice thing people did think about after I died, though nobody knew it had anything to do with me. For quite a long time, I didn’t know either. One day at a picnic, I dropped an apple core. After we’d gone, a striking crimson-coloured bird flew down and ate it. An hour or two later, the bird did a poo which contained an undigested apple pip. The pip landed in a soft brown patch of loamy soil. Cased in nutritious bird-poo, the pip germinated the following spring. A few years later it grew into a full-sized apple tree and when it dropped its fruit, more apple trees grew. This kept happening.
Nowadays, there’s a beautiful orchard where the crimson-coloured bird first pooed out that little seed from my discarded apple core. Lots of people go there and picnic in the shade of the leafy green trees. They eat the crisp red apples and say: “Isn’t this beautiful!”
So my little life counted for something. I’m very pleased.