Mollie's Journey to San Francisco

More about Mollie's Journey to San Francisco

The Decision or the Departure
Mollie the Mole was no ordinary mole. Although he lived underground, he had long since realized that the world above him was full of wonders. Mollie was a stubborn fellow – he wore stylish round sunglasses, a sunny yellow shirt, and over them a pair of denim overalls with large pockets. In them, he collected things: finds, stories, ideas. His small home was on the edge of the forest, near the mountains, nestled between ferns and tree roots. It was quiet, warm, and cozy there. The walls were covered with maps and newspaper clippings, dried herbs hung from the ceiling, and books were stacked to the roots on one shelf. Mollie loved his home. And yet – there was something inside him that kept knocking. A quiet restlessness, a whisper: "There's more out there." This "more" came one day in the form of an old eagle named Percy. Percy was a wanderer who flew from horizon to horizon, collecting stories like other people collect stamps. He told of cities that never slept, of deserts that shone like golden carpets, of mountains that rose into the sky—and of a bridge so large and red that it seemed like a gateway to another world. "The Golden Gate Bridge," said Percy, "is like a thought stretching across the sea." This sentence stuck in Mollie's mind. And finally, he packed his backpack, stuffed a rolled-up map, an apple, and a small typewriter inside—and set off. He said goodbye to his garden, the mushrooms that grew beneath his window, and the fireflies that had often kept him company. It was not an easy decision for a mole who knew the darkness like the back of his hand. But Mollie was determined: he wanted to see something bigger than anything he had ever known. And somewhere between moss, roots and wind, his heart carried him westward – to where the horizon does not end, but begins.