Fable
The Agreeable Little Turtle
It was a very chaotic time. I know in that book you all read, they cover it in about 8 or 9 paragraphs. But the truth is, the first six days of creation took forever. There was a lot of standing in line for hours only to find the clerk was going on their lunch break. There was endless paperwork; they really hadn’t perfected the pen yet, and the invention of white-out was years away. You can imagine the problems that arose, especially in the Department of Evolution. They were severely understaffed. The complaint box was overflowing. Morale was pretty low, and a lot of angels were beginning to question God’s plan. God said it would be filled with delightful creatures they could play with, but so far, there was nothing delightful about these loud, smelly…things. In fact, most of them were quite demanding, and a few were downright rude.
By Faith M Adam2 years ago in Fiction
The Birth of Crow and Mourning Dove
In the first epoch of Land and Sky, Crow and Mourning Dove were quite different. They were, in fact, the same bird. This bird had grey feathers that shone silver in the sunlight and ferrous in the moonlight. With a wingspan spanning six feet or so, he was the size of a Triassic eagle. This bird’s name was Horith.
By Kate Kastelberg 2 years ago in Fiction
The Origin of Maple Syrup
In her drafty log cabin, Elanor set up all the ingredients she remembered her mother would need for her favorite treat- just butter, some sea salt, and a whole bucketful of maple syrup. On such a chilly evening, Elanor reminisced about how her mother loved to bake in snowy weather. She gently rested her thoughts in the back of her mind while she poured the sap from the metal container into a large stew pot lofted above the fire and watched as steam began to drift up from the surface. The familiar scent of maple wafted from its perch above the flame, and she knew she'd have about half an hour before the boiling candy was ready for stirring and cooling. Her younger sister Lacey was too little to help, and she was far too preoccupied playing with her doll on the floor, anyway.
By Harbor Benassa2 years ago in Fiction
Men's Monster
My therapist used to tell me I was retelling my abuse over and over in my writing. That I was analyzing the plight I faced with myself and with my father from a million different 'what ifs'. Perhaps I was. Perhaps I am. It's funny how trauma imprints so hard on you that you can trace its footsteps back to your childhood. When I was a kid, I invented reasons for it. I fancied that surely if he was a monster, it was because there was monster blood deep within him. Now, as an adult, I understand that abuse does run through families in a viscous cycle, not unlike the monster blood I envisioned. So here is the story a nine year old girl told herself for why men did evil things to people.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Fiction
Tiger Stripes
Orange lilies and black irises swung across her village on the Tigris Festival's eve. Cata wore traditional auburn robes, her bare feet appearing for a moment with each step down dirt path toward the jungle. She watched the leafy canopy thicken overhead. The peach trees were always plump this time of year.
By Jenna Sedi2 years ago in Fiction
