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- Herausgeber: Kelly Johnson
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Sprache: Englisch
Alfred the Alligator wakes up on a sunny swamp morning feeling a bubbling sense of adventure and decides to explore parts of the swamp hes never seen before. Along the way, he meets Myrtle the Mud Turtle, a wise old friend who shares secrets about a magical hidden grove where fireflies glow even in daylight, but warns him that to reach it, he must first navigate the tricky Muddy Maze. With Myrtles guidance and his own determination, Alfred carefully ventures into the maze, learning to trust his instincts and the subtle signs around him. His journey is full of new sights, challenges, and wonders, marking the beginning of a magical and exciting adventure beyond his familiar home.
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Seitenzahl: 58
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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IMPRESSUM
Alfred the Alligator’s Afternoon Adventure
Author: Kelly Johnson
© 2025 Kelly Johnson.
All rights reserved.
Author: Kelly Johnson
Contact: 903 W Woodland Ave, Kokomo, IN 46902
Email: [email protected]
Disclaimer
This eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: A Sunny Swamp Day
Chapter 2: Meeting Myrtle the Mud Turtle
Chapter 3: The Muddy Maze
Chapter 4: Firefly Festival
Chapter 5: Lost in the Reeds
Chapter 6: Friendly Help from Benny the Blue Heron
Chapter 7: A Surprise Snack
Chapter 8: Twilight on the River
Chapter 9: Home at Last
Chapter 10: Dreaming of Tomorrow’s Adventure
Title: Alfred the Alligator’s Afternoon Adventure
Author: Kelly Johnson
Chapter 1: A Sunny Swamp Day
The sun rose slowly over the swamp, painting the sky in soft oranges, pinks, and the faintest traces of lavender. A gentle breeze stirred the tall reeds, sending ripples across the quiet surface of the water. Mist curled above the river like a silvery ribbon, winding its way between lily pads and fallen branches. Dewdrops clung to every blade of grass, catching the light and turning the marsh into a sparkling wonderland.
Deep in the heart of the swamp, nestled beneath the gnarled roots of an ancient willow tree with bark worn smooth by years of wind and rain, Alfred the Alligator was just beginning to stir. His mossy green body lay curled in a cozy nest of damp leaves and cattail fluff, surrounded by bits of driftwood he had collected over time—his “treasures,” as he liked to call them.
Alfred blinked sleepily, his golden eyes adjusting to the gentle morning light that filtered through the cracks in his den. His long snout twitched, then drooped back down onto the soft moss. With a groggy sigh, he let out a mighty yawn that made his jaw creak and snap shut with a gentle clop. One by one, he stretched each of his stubby legs, letting out a low hum of satisfaction as his joints popped and his claws scratched the floor of his den.
The cool air inside the den tickled his scaly hide, and just outside, the swamp was waking up with him. Frogs croaked lazily from their spots on wet logs. Dragonflies zipped through the reeds, their translucent wings catching the morning light like floating bits of stained glass. A pair of turtles thudded into the water with a splash, and somewhere upstream, the beat of a heron’s wings echoed as it rose into the sky in search of breakfast.
Alfred lifted his head and peeked out from his den, squinting at the brilliant sun as it shimmered on the river’s surface, painting it with streaks of liquid gold and silver. The swamp, in all its sticky, muddy glory, was breathtaking.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of damp earth, fresh blossoms, and the faint, tangy hint of algae that always lingered in the air. It was the kind of morning that made the whole world feel new.
Then he felt it—a tingling in his chest, light and fizzy, like the bubbles that danced up from the hidden underwater springs near the old lily pond. It was a feeling Alfred hadn’t felt in quite some time.
Adventure.
It started as a flutter, a whisper in the back of his mind, and grew stronger with each passing second.
“I’ve spent too many days napping by the bank and chasing butterflies,” he murmured, a grin tugging at the corners of his snout. “It’s time I explored beyond the cypress grove and the frog pond. Who knows what I might find out there?”
He turned and looked at his collection of swamp treasures—shells with tiny holes, a perfectly smooth stone shaped like a heart, and a pinecone that smelled like cinnamon bark. All lovely things, but all found close to home.
Today, Alfred wanted something different. Something new. Maybe a path he’d never noticed before, or a tree so tall it touched the clouds. Maybe he’d meet someone who knew a secret trail, or stumble across a hidden place where fireflies danced even in the daylight.
With a bounce in his step and a twinkle in his eye, Alfred stepped out into the swamp, letting the rising sun warm his scales.
And just like that, his adventure began.
Alfred padded outside, his wide feet squishing softly into the warm mud. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of blooming swamp lilies and damp earth. A breeze danced through the willows, carrying the scent of honeysuckle and the distant sound of chirping insects. The world felt alive, humming and swaying to a rhythm only the swamp seemed to understand.
He glanced toward the trees he knew so well—the leaning willow, the crooked pine, the patch of cattails where he often napped in the afternoon sun. They were comforting and familiar, but Alfred’s eyes drifted past them to the parts of the swamp where the water was darker, the trees stood taller, and the paths were unclear.
That was where he wanted to go.
With a determined flick of his tail, Alfred hurried back into his den. He rummaged through his belongings and pulled out his favorite exploration satchel—a small, stitched-together pouch made of woven reeds and lily pads. Inside he packed everything he thought he might need: a shiny pebble for good luck, a small map Myrtle the Mud Turtle had once drawn for him, a snack of pickled cattail roots, and his favorite marshmallow fluff sandwich wrapped in leaf paper.
Ready at last, Alfred stepped out into the sunlight and looked at the sky.
“It’s going to be a good day,” he said with a smile.
Just then, a fluttering sound caught his ear. A bright yellow butterfly landed on his snout and gently flapped its wings. Alfred chuckled softly and watched as it took flight again, leading his eyes toward a narrow path he had never noticed before—just beyond a cluster of ferns and mossy stones.
“Well, well,” Alfred said thoughtfully. “A path I haven’t taken before. That seems like the perfect place to start.”
He began to walk, slowly at first, savoring the feeling of soft earth beneath his feet and the way the morning sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting golden patches on the forest floor. As he ventured farther from home, he could hear the swamp change. The frog songs grew quieter, replaced by the chirps of crickets and the rustle of small animals in the underbrush.
Each step brought something new—a cluster of mushrooms glowing faintly beneath a fallen log, a tree with bark shaped like a lightning bolt, a pond so still it reflected the sky perfectly.
Alfred paused often to look around, not because he was nervous, but because he wanted to remember everything. The adventure had only just begun, but he already felt the thrill of discovery in his chest.
