Horace and the Hue-Carrots
Horace was not your average Ankylosaurus. While his kin lumbered through prehistoric ferns munching on tough leaves, Horace harboured a secret, colourful craving: carrots. Not just any carrots, mind you, but Hue-Carrots, a variety that existed only in the most vibrant corners of his imagination.
These weren't your typical orange roots. Horace’s Hue-Carrots sprouted in every conceivable shade. Some pulsed with the electric blue of a jungle orchid, others glowed with the fiery magenta of a volcanic sunset. There were lime-green carrots that tasted like a giggle, sunny-yellow ones that held the warmth of the midday sun, and even shimmering silver carrots that hummed with a quiet, magical energy.
Horace imagined a secret garden bathed in the light of twin moons, where these fantastical carrots grew in abundance. The soil would be a swirling mix of sapphire and gold dust, and the carrot tops would unfurl like rainbow-striped flags. Tiny, singing beetles with amethyst shells would tend to the garden, their melodies coaxing the Hue-Carrots to grow plump and juicy.
One day, while munching on a particularly bland fern, Horace closed his eyes and truly imagined his Hue-Carrot garden. He pictured himself waddling through rows of crimson and violet roots, the air thick with the sweet, tangy scent of pure colour. He imagined biting into a turquoise carrot, the flavour bursting in his mouth like a thousand tiny stars.
Suddenly, Horace felt a strange tingling in his nose. He opened his eyes and blinked. Right there, nestled amongst the ferns, was a single carrot. But it wasn't just any carrot. This one shimmered with an inner light, its skin a delicate lavender fading into streaks of sunset orange at the tip. It wasn't quite the full glory of his imagined Hue-Carrots, but it was undeniably touched by their magic.
Horace carefully nudged the lavender-orange carrot with his snout. It smelled of sweet earth and the faintest hint of a happy sigh. He took a tentative bite. The flavour was unlike anything he had ever tasted – a burst of gentle sweetness followed by a curious warmth that spread through his tail club.
From that day on, Horace continued to nibble on his regular leafy greens, but he always spent a little time each day vividly imagining his Hue-Carrot garden. And every now and then, a carrot with a hint of extraordinary colour would appear, a little spark of imagination made real, reminding Horace that even the most armoured Ankylosaurus could cultivate a world of vibrant wonder within his own mind, one colourful carrot at a time.
