“No diving ever! And welcome to our country. I hope you all immensely enjoy the sights there are to be seen.” The president of Jabbieworkhora had much that caused him to be pleased. Before him, a million and a quarter new skilled worker immigrants, and one hundred and five thousand tourists, who had travelled from various countries across the globe to work or witness this country, for its many beauties to be seen. A massive boost to the economy, new taxes to be paid, new skilled workers to be showcase their work and assist the populous and earnings of the general workers of today.
No diving ever though, in paradise this seemed awfully rough. The crystal clear blue waters tempted the new visitors and immigrants more than enough. Though most had come to this land to work hard, they came to build a better life for their wives, children, or their men, they understood that being surrounded by such a luscious backdrop and scenery would be positive for their mind, the thoughts within their head. Perplexed were they and the tourists, they simply wanted to see beneath the deep, watch the fishies and the octopi and the crawling crabs, pass before their very wondrous eyes, wonder within to be seen.
But why could there be no diving ever? What was the reason for this regulatory role? Snickey the Tourist Guide would deliver these facts, which were initially never provided at all.
She stated, and this is verbatim: “My dear visitors to our paradise, this wonderful world, enjoy what you can view, to see, but understand this, listen to me. You are not to dive beneath the deep, you may think underneath the view will be spectacular, very sweet, but allow me to state this is only in your dreams, nightmares within are what they will actually be.” She went on to further explain of The Hubba Hubba, which apparently resided in the depths, where he feasted upon bones of old humans, wrapped with seaweed, dipped in the sauces of relics left behind, forgotten after the fact. He liked to floss with the bone shards, picking and picking out remnants of meat as he pleased, would these immigrants and tourists wish to meet with a sight and vision as monstrous and horrendous as he?
In deep fright, with solidly widened stares, the visitors to this land now understood that their dreams and the actual nightmare did not positively compare. Best walk away from the suspiciously welcoming waters, and cherish their leaving of the sand with their lives intact, they went on to explore the streets, the restaurants, the beach – without closely approaching the sea – and that was that. The workers make good of their new chance at life within this deceiving paradise, and the tourists enjoyed their holidays immensely, returning to their countries, saying, “Nice, it was so very nice!” They purposefully did not mention though, avoided highlighting the fact, to the listeners of the presence of the Hubba Hubba, and because of his immense ability to cause fright and menace, they would never come back.
Tourism fell that year, then a little more, as each year cleared, until the tourism industry was washed away, no more visitors to fly there, enjoy the food, and sights, to pay, and the country became a haunting sight upon one’s eyes to be laid. Whispers of olden times, when successes were the president’s words and activities, no longer yours, nor mine, there are no longer excited voices jabbering in the bars and clubs, no smiles and arms around shoulders, newly made friendship-hugs. No, now it was a deserted land, and if only the tour guide and president had made up a positive lie to keep the tourists and immigrants away from the menacing water instead.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
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