In a new series of features for The 405, we'll be asking people from bands we like to create a short story for us. First up is Sarah of Dag för Dag and her story entitled 'The Tales of A Vegetarian Wolf'. Pictures courtesy of Anika Mottershaw.
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Once upon a time, in the far stretches of the northern parts of the western hemisphere, there lived a vegetarian wolf. A vegetarian what? A what kind of wolf? Hold your horses, kids, all shall be explained herein, just give a storyteller a chance. You see, this wolf was peculiar amongst others, allowing himself to live straight from his heart and make his decisions accordingly. Not many wolves can claim to live so nobly. His eyes reflected a future of crystalline calm and his strength was a useful tool to have on one’s side. In his ordinary, day by day, lupine existence, the vegetarian wolf was a peaceable creature, padding his way from Stockholm, the alleged ‘capital of Scandinavia’, which mother wolf called home, to Örebro, where the wolf embarked on studies of a medical nature, to Skanör, where grandma wolf took habitat, always loving a visit from her wee little wolf grandson. Well, the vegetarian wolf was neither wee nor little, but grandma could still recall the day when he was little more than a hairy babe in arms. Now that is all very well but not really fuel for a story worthy of your time. So let us get to the point. It was on a trip a bit out of the ordinary for our darling wolf, a time when he first hit the road with a travelling band, a couple of North American gypsies and one Chuck Bukowski out to conquer the world, (well, a teeny portion of Germany and Switzerland) with their sort of rock ‘n’ roll. The most peculiar thing about this wolf – upon first making his acquaintance – is that when travelling southbound from his northernmost habitat, upon crossing the border into Sweden’s south westernmost town of Malmö he becomes a meat-eating predator, his appetite insatiable, his effect on members of the opposite sex overwhelming and his musical capacities beyond compare. He becomes – to use a much-used cliché – an utter wolf among lambs. Armed with little more than a roll of gaffa tape, a white 4-string guitar, a pint of German korn and a pair of hole-in-the-crotch jeans, he has made his way down through western Europe, leaving quite a vibrant trail in his wake. And it is this very trail, which was first laid in November of the year of our Lord 2009, that we shall explore at a future date, now that we are all familiar with the odd effect all landscapes from Malmö south have on our previously northerly-confined, soya-consuming protagonist. Ah Wolfie, lucky are those to cross your meat-laden path. To be most certainly continued…
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