I spend most of the time watching my step along this tricky jungle trail.
That was why I managed to discover this snail passing by in front of me. As I used to photograph whatever I had met, this mollusc was thus not an exception. The moment I started shooting, I overheard a soft whisper coming from my back suddenly. I tried to search around, but it was in vain.
I was very curious, but not curious enough to keep looking around. I went back to my little snail for a macro dialogue, and I heard the sound again. It was so faint but I managed to listen more this time, "Please take my photo."
I turned back again. I found a flower whispering in the breeze this time. She was jealous. A flower thought she was much more beautiful than the snail. A flower was jealous as I had overlooked her.
It might be due to the darker setting that I had not noticed her at the first time, but her proactiveness had successfully brought herself to the stage.
Once the breeze stopped blowing, everything seemed to resume to normal, and the flower was nothing but just an ordinary flower, just like the pumpkin was no more a coach, the mice were no more those horses, the rat was still a rat and the footmen became lizards again at the final stroke of midnight.
And when I remembered about the snail, it was no more around.
The hiking trail was only a simple hiking trail by now.