with the ability to turn to stone; just ask Gilbert.
Gilbert was a good-hearted gnome, but not as cautious as
he should've been. He lived a good life in a small stump a few
feet away from the home of humans. Every morning
they prepared a feast. The wonderous smells roused Gilbert
from his bed and called to him by way of a very rumbly belly.
He got up with a skip in his step and a jaunty little tune
on his lips, combed his beard, put on his best and only
pair of pants and made his way to the house.
It was the same every day and Gilbert was happy.
Today was different, though. It smelled different.
Before Gilbert could reach the mouse hole that lead to the kitchen, a furry white beast pounced from the bushes and
blocked his way. It hissed and swiped at him with its
razor-sharp claws. He froze in fright.
The beast hovered over him. Its fishy breath made his
stomach churn. Its whiskers grazed his face.
His reflection in the beast's large yellow eyes stared back at him.
Gilbert did the only thing he could think of and turned to stone. He hoped the beast would get bored and go away, but it didn't.
It laid down in the grass and batted at him with its paws.
The sun rose high in the sky. Its rays warming stone Gilbert.
Finally the beast yawned and walked away, but it was too
late for poor Gilbert. He'd been encased in stone for too long.
The humans found him a few days later and wedged him
between a plastic flamingo and a crop of poison ivy.
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