Wilkie ate and ate and ate and consequently as you probably guessed she pooed and pooed and pooed. She loved her new farm. The food was plenty. She dined on such a variety of scraps and became quite a culinary little worm.
Wilkie became attuned to the seasons. In summer she feasted on watermelon rinds and pineapple cores; winter brought such delights as potato peels, soup vegetable scraps and the pulp and seeds of pumpkins; in autumn and spring the leaves of a vast array of salad vegetables abounded; and all-year-round Wilkie partook in as many teabags and coffee grindings as she pleased.
Her comfy farm had three trays stacked like storeys of an apartment block. The floors of the trays were like mesh (or a staircase) to allow the worms to pass up and down as they pleased.
In the top tray was the kitchen and dining hall – a hungry worm’s favourite tray to hang out. From time to time the roof of this tray was lifted like a lid and so much food rained in through the soft light from above that a little worm best take care not to gorge herself to death.
The second tray had the sleeping quarters. The beautiful part about Wilkie’s world, because she lived in total darkness for all but those times when it rained food, was the fact that she slept whenever she wanted – ‘day’ did not really exist as we humans know it. Wilkie’s farm simulated the underground environment which worms love. And while worms have no need for eyes because of living in darkness, they can still sense light, which they are actually quite repels them.
The third tray – the basement – wasn’t frequented much by Wilkie or her siblings. It had an indoor pool which was also a worm-wee collection tank. Because worm-wee has the same magical life-giving value as worm-poo, the basement got drained every now and then through a tap at one end. And you didn’t want to find yourself caught down there when the tap opened because drowning was a certainty, like being sucked down the plug-hole with the bathwater. Wilkie watched many worms meet this fate and while dying in your own poo or wee might be an exciting prospect for any worm, the world still needed saving.
Do you know the best thing about the layout of Wilkie’s home? There was no designated toilet. You might think this peculiar because worms need to poo. You might also think it quite revolting to roll around in your own poo. But it gets worse. Because Wilkie lived in a communal world, all the worms shared absolutely everything and they reveled in rolling around in each other’s poo. That’s just how it was – pooing wherever you want and rolling around in it with your siblings is ‘worm paradise’.
Yes, Wilkie settled into a lovely life. Her only threat was the dreaded ‘fishhook’. Those humans! But that’s another story altogether – no way was our hero becoming fish bait! Still, a worm dare not utter such a horrible utterance – doing so might have them cast down to the murky depths of the farm’s basement.
Part of Wilkie’s comfortable existence, she thought, was the fact that she was starting to build a happy rapport with some very nice humans, who seemed to have particular interest in her and her magnificent poo.
Whether Wilkie and the humans could combine to make use of such a magnificent resource remains to be seen.