The Communal Wetlands though only ten square miles, harbored, mysteries yet unfurled. Hunters who came from it alive remembered the musky dampness, its dewy dawn, and the misty aura that followed the thick heavy fog everywhere, like a spirit The fungus was a hybrid of plant and animal, yet it bore the semblance of neither. It was a black tarry gook. It remained in the pond where the scientist threw it, and in twenty years it grew and filled up five acres. It willed animals to enter it, and then it fed as they walked into its slimy consistency. It even captured the minds of strong willed men and subjected them to its hunger. Belize was a seaport city in Central America. It belonged to Great Britain, but it claimed the right of electing a native prime minister. The request was granted, and businessmen chose their candidate. Voters were bribed and promised jobs and other gifts and their candidate won. Time passed and they strategically planned for a second term in office, but the helicopter that transported one million dollars, as gift for their needy voters, was shot down in the communal wetlands by a sniper with high-powered rifle. A hunter found the attaché case with the money and hid it. The disappointed people swayed towards the opposition party and supported them. A hurricane struck, and murders and schemes, and corruption in government offices were exposed. Tales of a shipwreck, and buried Spanish and Mayan treasures, were found to be true, and stability was regained.
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