Driven by a Dream

I'm sitting in a class today, learning techniques for teaching English composition according to Dr. Webster's method - well, actually, we've just broken for lunch. Our assignment last night was to re-write Aesop's fable “The Milk-woman and Her Pail” (a copy of which will follow, since it's in the public domain). Here (offered here for the purposes of promoting my humility via humiliation) is my revised (and slightly updated) version:

Driven by a Dream

Long ago, in a solar system light years away, there lived a poverty-stricken yet power-hungry young alien miner. On this particular windy day on Tyrrania, because this minor miner had dug deeply and industriously, he had been awarded a spectacular bonus: an enormous, extremely pure, and very volatile dilithium crystal which he had unearthed (or, rather, untyrranianed). The fortunate minor was now skimming his skimmer skillfully and swiftly through the windy Tyrranian sky, warbling gleefully and daydreaming blissfully about what he would do when he arrived at his destination, the trade depot. Threading his way carefully through the tall energy towers that lined the skimway, the alien pondered the possibilities that now presented themselves. Since the crystal was so volatile, it was extremely valuable: when he sold it, he would have enough credits to buy his own trade-ship. He swerved sideways. Barely missed that one! he thought to himself as he drifted dangerously close to a tower.

With a trade ship, the credits would quickly come pouring in. A fleet of ships awaited! Retrofitting them for war would be easy if he earned his credits by engaging in the arms trade, and then his formidable battleships would conquer the solar system. He was getting excited now as his plans were progressing, which set the alien jittering and burbling with excitement and anticipation. Flashing through his brain came visions of the glories which awaited him. When he had conquered all, because of his economic and strategic superiority, all would admire and honour him, erecting statues and composing odes to celebrate his greatness. Inevitably the whole of the galaxy would bow before him!

As he imagined his future, the alien’s driving became more erratic and unheeding. Without warning, the wind shifted. An energy tower loomed unexpectedly close. Wrenching at the controls in frantic desperation, the alien screamed and hissed in frustration because he could see that there was nothing which would prevent the inevitable. In an instant, the ship and the alien erupted in a ball of blue flame. Barely anything, since the invention of the skimmer, is as dangerous as a being driven by a dream.

The original:

The Milk-woman and Her Pail

A farmer’s daughter was carrying her pail of milk from the field to the farmhouse, when she fell a-musing. “The money for which this milk will be sold, will buy at least three hundred eggs. The eggs, allowing for all mishaps, will produce two hundred and fifty chickens. The chickens will become ready for the market when poultry will fetch the highest price, so that by the end of the year I shall have money enough from my share to buy a new gown. In this dress I will go to the Christmas parties, where all the young fellows will propose to me, but I will toss my head and refuse them every one.” At this moment she tossed her head in unison with her thoughts, when down fell the milk pail to the ground, and all her imaginary schemes perished in a moment.