(Author's Note: As a Spanish native speaker, I apologise for the possible mistakes I might have made when writing this story in English. I simply wanted to give it a try, because I've been studying English for a while and I really like it…Sorry!)
Had he ever thought he would end up living in such a phenomenal hole when he was a nipper, he would've never believed it. Honestly, he was just a humble worm. Blue, stylish, and wonderfully charming he was, of course, but just a worm, after all. Who could have imagined someone so small could gather so much good luck? For not only did he own a cosy home, but also had the most perfect missus in the whole world. Nobody could be compare to her. No way!
He really was the envy of most neighbours in their corridor. He lived in a huge labyrinth, but had never gone beyond this passage, though. Why should he ever bother? They had everything that was necessary to live comfortably there.
A round warm rug, an inheritance from his great-great-great grandparents, occupied the centre of the living room. Its faded colours, an undetermined tone of green mould and red, were a living remembrance of his childhood. Oh, boy! There wasn't a better place to lie on and have a nap after lunch; or, as it was the case at the moment, to wait for the tea his adorable missus used to prepare every morning and afternoon.
What a tea! Dear Lord! The tastiest tea one could ever try. He always thought that his missus' tea had healing powers. It really did! He couldn't remember the number of backaches and sore throats his missus' tea had cured. They were countless. And what about its delicious smell? Not until you tasted it, could you discover what a really good tea was supposed to be. It was flawless, like his missus.
He sighed, full of happiness, and gazed at the pictures that were hanging on the curved walls of his hole. He and his sweet missus were smiling unaffectedly on one of them. That was the day of their wedding. He sighed again, showing his small white teeth in a similar smile. The same red scarf was wrapping his neck now. His missus had had the delicacy to knit it for him as a Christmas present. He kept it as a treasure.
From the kitchen came the usual noises that, in case of getting closer to the house, one could hear every morning. Through the open door, the shine of the porcelain revealed the presence of the colourful mugs that were settled on top of a long shelf over the countertop. His missus was cooking breakfast, and the tantalizing aroma of toast and tea seemed to be flying directly towards his nose. His eyes moved away from the wall covered with pictures, while his stomach woke up with a roar.
But then it was a different roar that came, along with a strong earthquake. It seemed the whole labyrinth was trembling. Several paintings fell down with a muffled thump, and the books that were neatly displayed on the mantelpiece slid and began to spill out onto the rug like a cascade. The walls of his small hole were shaking as if a gigantic hand were knocking on his door. Perhaps that could be exactly what was going on, couldn't it? His missus' alarmed face appeared all of a sudden when she stuck her head round the kitchen's door. He smiled at her in an attempt to calm her down. Then searching for his own courage, though, he wormed his way out of their house to sort out this mystery.
Outside it was a bright day. The sunshine harmed his slightly bulging red eyes for a moment. After blinking a couple of times, he observed the passage. Everything seemed to be just normal: dead branches and leaves and broken bricks were scattered throughout the stoned floor, while the walls kept going on and on in both directions like and endless snake. Likewise, the opening across the corridor, the one that, should you turned to the left, would lead you to the lugubrious Goblin King's castle itself, was exactly where it had always been.
But at that point a curious thing struck his attention. Something was completely out of place. A huge being was resting its back against the sparkled wall, and a second later it dropped on the ground, as if it was utterly disheartened. Although he wasn't sure of what that was, its beautiful face framed by velvety black hair looked so dispirited.
"Poor thing!" he said to himself. His kind heart was sinking with pity, suddenly touched by that sad expression, when he had a light bulb moment. No way would he stand there witnessing such terrible dejection without doing anything to help! No way at all! He was a compassionate worm! A nice cup of his missus' tea would do it, he was sure of it.
Sighing once more, therefore, he looked closely at the pretty being and addressed it:
"Ello!"
THE END