Many people cannot afford their own leaf blowers and my rates are substantially cheaper than buying a new one. Basically, people just hold me by the legs and I blow the leaves away with my breath. It’s cheap and good for the environment.
Being held upside down amongst the leaf litter really brings a new perspective on life. Underneath the auburn canopy, there’s a whole new world of unexplored potential just scuttling around our feet. I’ve witnessed insect empires rise and fall. I’ve met hedgehogs on their daily commute, scampering to work with a tall coffee. Life is just as busy as it is on the surface, but events are imbued with a wistful orangey glow as sunlight struggles to penetrate the leaf layer.
After several days of being a human leaf blower, I began to accept life amongst the leaves and adjust to it. I knew not to blow on the rats as they had a tendency to bite your lips off. Life began to make more sense down here, down where it’s wetter, down where it’s better, under the leaves.
I found myself struggling to cope with normal regular life. Everything just seemed too bright. Humans didn’t make much sense to me anymore. Their actions were mostly unexplainable, such as their predisposition to putting Piers Morgan on TV. Standing upright began to feel peculiar and alien to me. I didn’t want to take days off because I couldn’t stand the thought of blood running to my feet. Gravity seemed to be working the wrong way around, and I found myself unable to adjust.
In the end I was renting my leaf blowing services out around the clock, 24 hours a day, just to feel normal. While down there, I discovered a whole underworld of diminutive gnomes. They worked tirelessly day and night to build a rocket that would break through the canopy, so they could reach the surface. They believed the surface to be a dry utopia of rainbows, delicious strawberries and sexual tolerance. They were utterly misguided. I tried to warn them, but they continued their construction in order to explore the new frontier that I had come to detest. I pleaded with them to stop, that life beyond the canopy held nothing for them, and they would likely be stepped on or eaten by a slightly peckish dog. Amongst the leaf litter they remained undiscovered. If our scientists found them, no doubt they would do hideous experiments on the gnomes by forcing them to eat Pot Noodles.
|" 'scuse me pal, I'll think you'll find you're in the wrong garden"|
The gnomes failed to heed my calls. They were so certain that the grass was greener beyond their leafy hollow, and they launched their rocket. I was present for the launch, blowing leaves around on Mr Kimble’s driveway, when a sharp object going at high velocity poked me in the eye. Their rocket collided with my pupil, killing hundreds of intrepid gnome leafnauts in an instant. I couldn’t continue blowing leaves after this terrible tragedy. Life has never quite seemed the same since. You don’t quite get over the mass killing of macroscopic creatures on such a scale.