The presence of a new being



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one autumn afternoon, when the dried leaves were lightly falling from the cold, barren tree branches, a small, fuzzy caterpillar was wiggling, its belly rubbed by the cool air. The caterpillar finally stopped wiggling and stood still. It curled its eight slender, black legs and leaned against the tree. After a minute passed, the caterpillar unfolded its eight legs and started wiggling its belly again.

The caterpillar's body was smooth, almost glossy. There was no hair on his skin, so he looked like a small black slug. He wore no clothes. He had three small, round eyes on each side of his flat head. Each eye was so black, they looked like two small stars shining next to each other. The smooth, black body of the caterpillar moved slowly. It turned slowly. The caterpillar was looking around.

The caterpillar stared at the tree. It stared at the branches. It stared at the leaves. It stared at the trunk. It stared at the dried branches that had been left on the ground. The caterpillar saw a brown, shriveled leaf. It thought, "I could eat that leaf." The caterpillar walked to the leaf and looked at it. It stared at the dried, brown leaf.

The caterpillar picked up the leaf with its eight legs, walked to a soft piece of grass, and stepped on it. The caterpillar placed the leaf there. It leaned against the tree. It stared at the leaf. The caterpillar turned. It felt the wind blowing. The leaves on the tree started moving. They started dancing. The caterpillar wondered about the dancing leaves. The wind blew again. The leaves started jumping up and down. The caterpillar wondered, "What are they doing?"

The wind blew again. The caterpillar looked up at the leaves. They were jumping. They flew up. The caterpillar wanted to fly, too. "I want to jump," it thought. It stared at the leaves. It was jumping. The caterpillar jumped. Its eight legs made only one small, soft thud.

It did not fly high. The leaves kept flying higher. The caterpillar made another soft thud when it landed on the soft piece of grass. It was tired. It sat down. The leaves landed on the leaf it had placed on the soft piece of grass. The leaves were soft. They were also cold. They were not moving.

The leaf looked like it was made of wood. It was small. It was wrinkled. It smelled like frozen apples. The leaf was brown. Its color was not the same as the color of the tree. It was lighter. It was not burnt by the sun. It was leaning against the tree. Its color was like the color of the tree bark. The caterpillar started to think. It thought, "Why is it different?"

The caterpillar turned its belly toward the leaf. The caterpillar leaned on the leaf and stared at it.

The caterpillar's skin was soft. The caterpillar's skin moved. It moved from inside. The skin on the caterpillar's belly was moving between the soft, yellow flesh and the small bones underneath. The skin moved from the caterpillar's small, round head to its tail. It moved from the tail to the head. It was a soft, black worm. The caterpillar's skin moved from his tail to his head.

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