It was a chilly day many autumns ago. I'd been out for a long walk among the fallen leaves and upright mushrooms.
On the ground I came across a giant pupa. Normally these things are tiny and have small caterpillars inside, but something told me this one was different, and not just its size.
I took the pupa home and kept it nice and warm.
For weeks on end I watched as nothing emerged, morning after morning. And then one day I returned from a shopping trip to find the empty silky cocoon lying strewn on the floor. I'd missed it, and I was desperately upset.
But then I felt something warm and smelly drop down onto my shoulder. It was poo, and holding onto the rafters was an overgrown, podgy, and very excitable baby boy.
Well, I didn't know what to make of it. And I actually started to feel very bad. This was someone's baby, and I'd stolen it. I grabbed him from the ceiling, wrapped him up nice and warm, cleaned my shoulder, and then rushed out to the place where I found him. I had no idea who could have left him there, and i couldn't see any signs of anyone having been in the area. I decided to leave a note pinned to a tree, and took the baby home. I had no choice but to care for him.
Nobody ever called by for him.
The baby grew at such a rate that it was unbelievable. He ate enough food for an elephant, and by his first birthday he was six feet tall. He still looked like a young boy, but his height told me that this wasn't any normal child. Oh you should have seen the nappies...
And he kept growing. By his third birthday he was 20ft tall. I struggled to find enough room in the house, I struggled to find enough food to fill his massive appetite. It was a difficult time for all concerned. And then there was a new development.
When he was almost five he started to grow wings. His height was nearing 50ft tall now, and his wingspan was almost double that. It was getting very difficult to keep him in the house, and it took me weeks to make a pair of trousers. They didn't ever fit even when i had finished them. It seemed quite a useless situation. But I did love him all the same.
When he was seven years old, he'd grown to 100ft tall. We had to come to an agreement. He was old enough to realise that living in my garden wasn't ideal. We talked about what was happening to him, and he came to the conclusion that he had to leave.
It was a sad day when he flew off, and I never knew what he was or where he came from. But it was nice to have the sun shine on my house again.