In the small humble farmland, particularly known as " Potatopia ", where little potato men worked busy on the farm, they hoed, cultivated, fertilized, or water the next generation of potatoes. On the other hand, the little potato women gather on the fertile and watered fresh soil and bathe upon the heat of the sun to later produce precious seedlings for the men to plant and cultivate.
Men and women alike have massed on the farmland both eager and impatient, depending on their age. They stood-watch once the sun peaked upon the two hills that lapsed on the Potatopia's scape of view beyond the small town itself.
" It's the tenth of the week! It's the tenth of the week! "
" Harvest Day!! "
Some tenaciously praised as they're unable to bottle up the excitement and fondness that they share. Those who were already keenly familiar with such miraculous event, particularly the older generations, got back to their warm and humble homes, preparing for the winter that December shall bring within the coming days. But for the younger ones who were still full of youthful enthusiasm, waited till the sun came down.
" IT'S HAPPENING!! IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!! "
Yelled the youth as some jittered and murmured merrily. Those who left earlier came back as some pried at a distance. The fertile and cultivated land slowly shook as their mouths and eyes drowned in awe of witnessing mother natures miracle.
Tiny arms and legs soon emerged from the soft tender soil, soon the little ones crawled out of their holes, and everybody if not already then is now roared in joy. Some audaciously charged to hug and welcome those who were given life by Mother Nature.
Just like that, the thirtieth generation of potatoes had emerged and was eminently greeted with intimate love and joy, amidst the incoming winter, men and women of Potatopia had faced the odds with impenetrable smiles and delight.
As the moon now shined at its peak, winters bite soon followed. Cold ushers of the wind made them hurry to their homes including the newborns. Leaves flew off from their branches, every house was tinted with orange-yellow as all potatoes loved a warm and cozy home.
Later that same night, once more the soil shook, surprisingly. A newborn who's been bestowed life by Mother nature had woke from its deep sleep only to be greeted by the harsh weather. The newborn was embraced by the unforgiving cold and the terror of night as she shivered and feared for her life.
" H...H...Hellooo... "
whispered the lone potato as she grew feeble by the second. She waited and hoped for someone to reply, but none came to answer her call. She had both her tiny hands wrapped around her skin as she fell upon the tender soil inevitable to forever fall into sleep.
However, hope came in a form of warmth. She felt a smoldering heat as she laid helplessly on the soil.
" A-HA!! "
She whispered. The peculiar potato dove back from whence she came and from there she found warmth amidst the harrows of night. Even though love and joy were neither to be seen, but instead was eagerly greeted by the iron fist of Mother nature and still managed to persevere. We have quite a peculiar potato indeed.
By daybreak, the humble abode of Potatopia once more bustled in a blissful orchestra. The newborns were segregated based on their gender. The girls belonged to the women, to teach them how to sprout new seedlings, while the boys belonged to the men where they learned how to plow the fields and nurture it for there is nothing greater than a potato's love.
The day went on guided by the spirit of winter's month, this made some if not all the potatoes weary and stale. The nutrients from the sun weren't sufficient enough to provide many of the older generations and offered only little to the youth, hence, they decided to call it a day hopping for a hotter morning tomorrow.
But what the potatoes failed to realize is that they weren't the only race to be greatly affected by the winter.
Ground thundering rumbles quaked the ground. A shadow had loomed over the entirety of Potatopia. The old generation of potatoes knew what is to come after peering through all the portents that their years of experience gifted them.
" HUMANS!!!... "
Yelled one amongst the frozen crowds. A hand thrust down grabbing two to three potatoes, the potatoes roared in terror as they shuffle through the scene, bumping against each other, scurrying through the safety of their dirt houses, the screams for dear life, and the cries of chaos rummaged through the entire farmland.
The race called " Humans " came in the form of three males. Each carried an empty sack grabbing as many potatoes as they can find, may it be on the dirt streets, in their homes, or even near the edge of town where some tried to flee.
But one human saw something that he couldn't quite recognize. And so he yelled to call upon the others.
" RAYMOND! "
" RAYMOND! "
" Stop screamin' my name! What is it you bloody clot! "
" LOOK HERE! LOOK HERE! " Anxiously yelled the one who called Raymond.
" I swear! If this is one of your ways of slacking off!.. " Replayed the one called Raymond.
" JUST! JUST!... JUST LOOK HERE! " Frantically pleaded the man who keeps pointing at something worth his full attention, and frankly the attention of his two other companions.
The one who called Raymond sat on his knees and pointed with great amusement, The called Raymond shot him a rather puzzled and perplexed look while the third one boldly stared down upon a very peculiar potato.
" It's...umm...a potato... " claimed Raymond.
" YEAH! But I mean look! It got those two tiny leaves on top of its heat and everythin'! And I saw it just sprouted off the ground seconds ago... "
" Killian please make sense of your little brother. " Replayed Raymond while giving Killian an all too knowing look.
Killian giggled and jostled Raymond's elbow before answering. " You don't have to tell me twice. "
" Illian! " The older brother exclaimed before letting out a sigh.
" What are we looking at exactly beside a newborn potato? "
" OKAY! LOOK! LOOK! I know that we can't eat the newborn potatoes because of certain rules from the elders and chieftains...BUT LOOK! " Eagerly exchanged Illian as he continues to gesture for them to look on the peculiar potato.
" Illian we had just enough of you tomfoolery!... " The older brother Killian was immediately interrupted by what he saw.
This potato wasn't like any of the others, for this potato was fighting back Illian by doing any means that it could to his little brother. The three of them fell silent with their squirming sacks strapped behind their backs. They sat on their knees with amusement as the potato kicked, punched, and literally threw its body to Illian's knee.
" What the hell am I watching? " A question by Raymond that none can particularly answer.
" Does it hurt? " Enquired Killian.
" No...not at all... " Answered Illian.
The three of them continued to watch on the tiny potato as it grew weary and eventually falling on its back, exhausted and...possibly dead? A peculiar potato indeed remarked Raymond to Illian.
" Quite a show this one had put. "
The two brothers nodded as they stood, ready to go back to their village.
" It ain't every day we get to see something...strangely peculiar, " murmured Illian as they casually waltz out of Potatopia in talks of their supper.
Our potato heroine found herself worn out, entirely depleted is more like it. She found protruded homes, griefing potatoes, and a town that was once filled with love and laughter is now a ghastly image, well---it wasn't like our peculiar potato had felt nor saw such love and laughter. most emerged from the corners of the farmland, either limping or glancing from a distance.
The emerging potatoes didn't weep nor sorrow from the aftermath of little O'Potatopia nor the abduction of their friends and family. Strangely enough, our weary potato was the only one who felt all of these even though she didn't get to be a part of it yet.
One of the old potatoes helped our heroine to her feet and said, " We saw...You single-handedly fought off those humans! "
" I lose...tired... " Our heroine replied.
" That's where you're wrong little one. You distracted all three of those humans by yourself! That bought us enough time to hide all the newborns and little of what remained from the old and the youth. "
" I wouldn't have thought that I'd personally encounter a tremendously bold yet couragious potato from my lifetime. Please, tell me O'brave one, what is your name? " the old potato pleaded with exhilarating fashion.
Every potato that glanced from a distance now waited with tingling excitement shoving away momentarily the fact that their homes are no more but clotters on the ground here and there.
" Name?... Hmm... " Our heroine knows not of this so-called " Name " that the old potato speaks off, not to mention that she'd rather lay in good and warm soil right now rather than speak and stand on one. And so, our potato was forced to think of a " Name ".
" My name... is... Potato. Yes, call me potato. I lay in soil now. I save others later. "
All the potatoes were astonished to hear her name as none were too crude nor bold to call themselves their race name. Some gasped dramatically while others were mesmerized by her answer. The old potato couldn't help but smile, he knelt on one knee next to our settled heroine and said, " Quite a peculiar name you have, Potato. My name is Bitt, I am the brother of Nitt, the chieftain of our beloved farmland. But... He was taken from us, to save me... "
Bitt glanced towards the horizon beyond Potatopia secretly hiding a whimper or two. Potato while her back firmly rested on the warmth of the soil clutched Bitt's hand.
" I save others later. "
Potato didn't fail to amuse Bitt as a tear finally cascaded along his face all the way to his body. Bitt gathered what remains of his people as he temporarily stood as the chieftain of Potatopia. Five of the old, six of the youth, and a twenty-one complete count over all the newborns including Potato.
All of the survivors including the newborns worked to rebuild their homes as Potato rests to save the others later.