This is based on a story I wrote in Finnish at school when I was around 12 
years old. The real topic for the story was "Something World" (I can't 
remember what that Something was), but as I found that terribly boring I 
decided to use my imagination and mutilate the title. Not surprisingly, I 
didn't get a particularly good grade for my version, which had the teacher 
concerned because my grades were usually high for story-writing. I have since 
lost the original (although it is probably lying at the bottom of some box) so 
I now re-write according to the bits and pieces I remember - adding in where 
I see fit.


Spit World
Kristoffer Lawson
30th July 1999

It was a fine sunny day as I walked along the path in the park near my house.
The birds sang loudly in their own private languages and everywhere there were 
people chatting merrily in their shorts, skirts and t-shirts. Life was easy 
and not a cloud could be seen anywhere. I kicked at the occassional leaf lying 
on the ground and sent it soaring into the air around me with the wind until 
it floated  gently back down just in front of my feet.
	Suddenly, as I walked along the winding path, my mood of relaxation 
was disturbed by a pool of unusually thick spit lying on the pavement in front 
of my feet. I examined it for a  while, observing carefully each bubble in the 
slime. It seemed like there was a whole world of light amongst the 
porridge-like liquid. I reached out to pick it up but it stood up and began to 
run away from me through the colourful park. For a moment I stood bewildered, 
not able to work out how to react to this strange situation. I decided I would 
not let it get away from me so easily. I squinted down the path it had taken 
and could still make itout, running like mad between the fine people who 
seemed to be taking no notice. I dashed off in pursuit.
	The spit was surprisingly fast. It turned right and left at random,
winding along the small trails in the park. I no longer had any idea of the
direction in which I was heading. The old trees began to look the same
everywhere as I rushed by them with my eyes only focused on the spit. I 
wondered whether it was running in circles or if it would finally run out 
of the park into the streets of the surrounding city. 
	Fortunately I didn't have to find out as, although the spit was 
running at top speed, I still managed to catch it. I pounded onto it and 
grabbed it by the ankles. It fell to the ground with a splat. I lay beside it 
for a while panting before getting up to examine it again. It had a slightly 
greenish colour that was reflected strongly in the bright sunlight. I lifted my
foot and stamped it into the pool of spit, only to realize it was deeper than 
I had imagined. I lost my balance and fell in.

	I woke up, after lying unconcious for an undiscernible amount of time,
in the middle of a large slimey green field. I dipped my finger in and it felt
slightly wet and soggy. I tried to see the edge of the field but it seemed
to continue forever into the horizon. There were buildings and the odd tree 
here and there, but they appeared to be made of the same green substance as 
the field. It was like they were hardened chunks of spit in the middle of a 
giant spit ocean. There was spit everywhere. On my clothes, in my hair, 
floating in the sky, streaming along the ground... I stood up to see that 
behind the buildings was an even more awe-inspiring sight. A huge monumental 
spit castle stood towering above the heads of the spit houses. It wobbled 
slightly in the wind and bubbled  occassionally at the edges.
	I couldn't resist the urge to investigate further. I walked down
the streets of the slimey green village, looking at the wonders I passed on my
way through. Spit people walked by me while taking care of what were 
apparently their normal daily chores. They too dripped green ooze with every 
step they took. In fact, it was a miracle that chunks of spit like that could 
keep together at all. None of them stopped to talk or even look surprised at a 
solid person like myself walking in the middle of their semi-liquid world.
	Finally I reached the square in front of the castle. Now that I was
at the foot of that immense pile of spit it felt even higher than it had done
at a distance. A large green door stretched high above my head, and it felt
like the tallest towers were touching the sky above. I admired the great 
achievement of the spit people's ingenuity. 
	After a while I walked on down another street full of small shops
selling what looked like food, books and clothing. I wondered if any of them 
might have a toilet as I had forgotten to go before beginning to chase the 
spit. I entered into the first shop and asked the spit person at the counter. 
He only shook his head in response. I looked at the watery objects he was 
selling for a moment, not recognizing any of them, and then moved on to the 
next shop. I received the same response from the shopkeeper there aswell, and 
the next, and the next... By the time I had walked through all the main 
streets I was beginning to feel desperate. 
	I stopped a passer-by and almost shreaked at him, "Are there ANY 
toilets in this place?" He looked at me curiously for a while but didn't say
anything so I continued, "Please! I'm desperate. I must find a toilet
somewhere."
	Finally he responded, "I'm afraid we don't have such things here."
	"Then where am I supposed to pee??"
	"I don't know, don't ask me." 
	With that he was off, living me in a state of near panic. I decided
that it was now an emergency. If I could not find a toilet I would be forced
to pee in my pants. The only alternative was to do it outside against a
building. The castle was near enough and I thought it would be sweet
revenge against the people of this place having no toilets to pee against
the wall of their finest building.
	I rushed up to it and spinned round a corner. There I could at least
have some privacy. I opened up my zip and releaved myself against the slimey
spit wall. To my horror it began to melt. I immediately stopped peeing but
it appeared to be too late. The wall was slowly dissolving into the ground
and as I watched the ground too began to look softer than before. In shock,
I looked around me at the village and saw that it too was dribbling into the 
ground. The spit people were turning into rivers and the buildings were 
floating on top of them. I ran around frantically shouting "I'm sorry! I'm 
sorry! But you didn't have a toilet!", but there was nobody left to hear me. 
They were busy flowing past my feet.
	Slowly the images of the park began to reappear. I could hear the
loud twittering of the birds again and could faintly see happy people walking 
past me. I looked to the ground where the spit had been and all that was left 
was a small watery puddle.