Don't Fall Into Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Thirty: This is it; the last daily posting. Cue the sad music and cries of outrage. Don't worry though. I would still like to post one perhaps once a week. What do you think about me extending ones that you liked most? That would mean you would have to tell me which ones you liked most. Otherwise I will whatever I please. I hope you have enjoyed my daily Snippets and Shorter Stories. I have enjoyed writing them and like all the different stories I have created. The imagination is truly an amazing gift. Happy Holidays!

Marya and the Orb

“The orb you seek lies half way down my dark and deep―yet clear enough to see to the bottom―pond. I don’t care what you desire to do with it, I can sense your intentions are pure.” He paused and smacked his lips. “There is a catch, however. You must be the one to pull it from my pond if it is to maintain it’s magical power. Good luck, young Princess.” The frog named Prince bowed to her, gave a gummy grin, and pointed down to the orb suspended amidst a cluster of small, red fishes.

   Marya didn't like being next to the nasty little frog with his bulging eyes and quivering throat, but she had no choice. She reached her hand into the chill water up to her elbow, her pale skin reflecting the blue hue. It was surprisingly clear. She could see the orb was just a few inches deeper. It was so close. If she moved forward a little more she should be able to reach it. But she couldn’t. The fishes and the orb looked like they were within her grasp, but they weren’t. Puzzled, Marya wondered if something was wrong with the pond. Perhaps she should see if the frog could make an exception for her? But no, all the legends said she must be the one to pull it out. Still, it seemed odd that the orb wasn’t as close as it seemed. Sighing in frustration, Marya knew she couldn’t give up now. The plague had reached her kingdom and she needed the orb’s power to save it. She only hoped she wasn't too late.

Prince licked his lips. She was quite dainty and young, but her beauty would sustain him for years. He knew she would never reach the orb unless she dove in and that would be fatal for her. If only she would lean in just a little more.

Marya shifted her weight forward a little more.

Sprout's Tales in Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Twenty-Nine: I think my cold is finally going away. Hurray! Not looking forward to next week. School is almost done and that means all my final essays and projects will be due. Oh joy. At least I'll be one more semester closer to graduating. By the way, Eric has been telling me that the sunrises the past few days have been quite exquisite. Perhaps you should make an effort to watch one. Now, here is a sweet little tale that I think was inspired by all the family I saw this weekend. Enjoy. There is only one more to go!

Grandfather Mushroom Tales

Dozens of tiny mushrooms pushed their way through the thick grass toward the lone, tall one. Their prize lay just ahead of them, protected in the thickest part. They had failed many times before to reach this area, but now their little bodies were strong enough to push it aside.

“Grandfather Sprout, Grandfather Sprout.” Dozens of voices chanted both their victory cry and greeting.

“Ah, you made it did you? You are a resilient little bunch. Quick you were. Woah, easy with the feet cluster children, they aren’t what they used to be.”

“Tell us a story.”

“A story!”

“Yah, about the time you were almost picked.”

“No, the time you journeyed to the other end of the meadow.” 

“Alright, quit pushing each other. Settle down, cluster children, settle down. There, that’s better. Now, have you heard about the time I was mushroomnapped by a furry, red squirrel and had to escape its hole in a tree before being eaten by its nest of babies? No? Well, alright then, if you promise to be quiet I will begin.” Grandfather Sprout fixed them with a stern gaze at his warning. When no one objected he nodded and began. “It was a warm, rainy day and I went for a walk to soak in the fresh rain...”

Lost Stars in Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Twenty-Eight:  I hope you all enjoyed eating until you burst. I had an interesting morning that settled down, thankfully, after a few hours. This is one of the last Snippets and Shorter Stories that I will post for a while. In six months I hope to do this again!

Irysa and the Stars

Irysa cast a small rainbow streaking through the sky from her vantage point on a small cliff. Nothing happened. She was sure she had seen the star fall on this side of the desert. Perhaps it was buried too far to hear her call. She frowned and scrunched her forehead. The night sky was quite exquisite out here in the middle of nowhere. Galaxies and planets shone bright and Irysa felt a longing to join them.

Shaking her head, Irysa tried one last time. Calling down starlight, she wove another rainbow and flung it. A faint twinkle shone two miles away. There! Irysa leapt off the cliff and called a gust of wind to fly her to the spot she had seen the star twinkle. She landed, throwing up a flurry of dust. She waited for it to settle. Humming, she danced Star on Earth and felt a stir from below the ground. Erupting out of the sandy rock, the head of a giant unicorn with a bright light on its horn answered her. It’s dusty mane rippled in the breeze and it’s body looked like the parched soil all around them. The star’s body of sand and rock raised a single leg out of the dry land to lift Irysa up. Irysa raised her hand and leg, balancing as she greeted the star.  

“Poor star, how did you end up down here? Would you like some help getting home?”

The star pulsed in answer. Irysa smiled and nodded.

Dwarf Mischief in Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Twenty-Seven: It is Thanksgiving Day! Eric and I slept over at the Higgins and had two dinners that day. We were quite full needless to say. I am grateful for a wonderful husband and our families. Two moms and two dads who watch over us, siblings who love us, and nieces and nephews who play with us. I am grateful for our apartment and my job. I am grateful for neighbors who bring me homemade chicken noodle soup. I am grateful for a Savior who gave his life for me. Happy Thanksgiving!

Brecke 

The dwarves were master workers of all things metal and earth. It is even said that after thousands of years spent perfecting this art, they could create living creatures from the metals of the earth. Brecke was the one of the twenty bronze creatures the dwarves successfully created to house life and help them with their work. But Brecke had other ideas. He was an unruly creature who loved mischief and children. He did not like to work and caused so many accidents in the dwarf tunnels that they had no choice but to release him into the open air. Searching the world, Brecke settled upon a small, old and forgotten forest in a corner of the world. He loved to flit among the gnarled trees so much like his own body. His beard, like a lions mane, covered his head and his intricate wings hummed when he flew through the swaying branches. Many of the animals wished to cast him out or destroy him for he caused them much grief with his pranks, but he had been made by dwarven magic and wouldn't be undone so easily. However, it was good that he couldn't be destroyed so easily for thought they didn't know it, he would save the forest and all that dwelt within it.

Eyes of Time in Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Twenty-Six: I am excited for tonight. We are going to see my family for a copule hours before watching the Hobbit movies extended tonight. I hope I can stay awake for both of them (update: I didn't.). Thanksgiving is tomorrow!

The Eyes of Time

Sufrina hated her power. She hated being around people for it only reminded her that Death, her father, was never far away. She could see how much time they had left to live in their eyes; one side showed the time, the other side the date. But she couldn't stay locked away in her room forever. The world dangled perilously above chaos and she was the frayed string holding it up.  Humans could come to her and petition for more time. Sufrina could grant it but at a high cost. There was only so much time granted to humans and if she extended one life she would have to shorten another’s. The more time they had left, the more she could transfer to another human. Sufrina hated their pleading tones, their cries that there must be another way, their anger as she continually said no. Most of the people who came to her were wicked, corrupt men and women who wished to lengthen their lives. They fed on the naive like ravenous wolves on lambs, promising gold to their families if they volunteered to give up their leftover time to them. Sufrina hated these men and women most of all. But she had no choice, she had to grant it to them. There were a few that had lived for hundreds of years and she knew that unless they stopped hungering for life they would continue to steal it.

Snippets and Shorter Stories in a Hostile Forest

Day Twenty-Five: This has been a nice, relaxing day. Too bad it can't last.

Plague

Something was wrong with the forest. Syrana, spirit of the forest, sensed a hostile force creeping into the edges of the outer trees. She woke from her magical slumber in her cave under the great Life Tree of the forest and sniffed the air. Something foul was coming from the east. She ran, her footsteps mere ghosts and shadows on the leafy, damp floor.  She wasn’t a creature of this world and so she had no body unless the forest was in danger. Syranna must investigate what was was happening to the trees. They weren’t dying; their life energy was still there, but it had changed somehow.

As she neared the edge the uneasy feeling grew until she felt the beginning tingles of a body forming. With a final leap, she reached the edge, a sleek orange fox. Something was definitely wrong with the trees; their trunks and branches had gone gray and black with bone-white leaves. Countless objects scattered around the trunks and the bones just outside the forest led Syrana to the conclusion that the trees had killed those brave enough to draw near the forest. “What is the meaning of this treachery and abominations?” Syrana snapped and growled at the trees. They simply reached their cracking limbs toward her, laughing with their dead leaves.

Snippets and Shorter Stories Burns Up

Day Twenty-Four. Thank heavens for neighbors and their homemade chicken noodle soup! Today was a long day of school and work! Warning. This next one is a little sad.

Mirana's Wrath

Inside the heart of Shadow Mountain, Mirana’s pleas echoed off the smooth walls, blending with the beating and chanting of the Shadow People. The two holding her tightened their grip as she struggled to break free. Mirana knew the volcano was about to erupt, this was her last chance to escape. But she still didn’t know where her baby was and she was too weak from childbirth to use magic. The shrieks and drums escalated and Mirana knew the climax was soon. Her tears dried almost as quickly as she shem.

The Chieftain walked forward, carrying something in his arms, covered by a blanket, and stopping at the edge of the lake of lava below. The light from the molten rock bathed his skin in blood red hues. The ash and smoke stung Mirana’s eyes and throat. He raised his arms and the blanket fell away to reveal a crying infant. “No!” Mirana’s final scream rose above all the other noise. Her child heard Mirana’s cry and stilled. The guards holding her released her and she ran forward until she fell, her unblemished white wings sizzling on the hot ground.

The chanting and drum beats stopped. Mirana looked up, breathed in, and felt her heart stop as the chieftain dropped her child into the lava.

The volcano stopped rumbling. “The prophecy has been fulfilled!” The Chieftain faced his subjects. “The infant of an angel has been sacrificed. We will all live.” Their frenzied chanting drowned out the rest of his words.  

“You will all burn!” The volcano trembled and resumed its explosive course. The Shadow People looked at the fallen angel and ran, but not fast enough. Mirana flew out of the volcano, feeding it power until it exploded, belching black smoke and fire balls.

Hours later, the High Archangel could finally see through the smoke and gazed with deep sorrow on the burning ruins around the volcano. He had sensed the volcano calm down then almost immediately, some form of magic poured into it and it exploded. He scoured the smoking land through his Magni-Window, hoping for someone or something to be alive. Just as he had given up hope, he spotted a moving form through the ashes. An angel walked across the destruction, with wings and dress as black as the ashes, eyes that burned like lava, and straps across her arms, blocking her magic. The High Archangel stared in horror upon the fallen angel who had murdered an entire people. “What have you done, sister?”

Life-changing Decisions in Snippets and Shorter Stories

Kerlock, his cape floating in the breeze, stood with his arms folded over his chest on a rock outcropping and stared at the border between his kingdom of Darcana and the kingdom of Clairon. He was a Werecat with white fur, white hair, and blue eyes. What he choose to do with his life determined what his appearance would look like. His next decision was his determining moment, he could feel it. Towering mountains rose above the great Jinow Waterfalls. The top of which marked the edge of the Clairon Kingdom. If a person fell or jumped off  the roaring waterfall, they would be in no man’s land until they hit the bottom. Kerlock paused. It could all be his kingdom. All he had to do was marry the eldest daughter of Clairon’s King, Princess Kyana. There was very little the tiny kingdom had to offer except a small shift in the balance of power. The little kingdom occupied the middle ground between the three Great Kingdoms--Vinzar, Lolira, and his own.If he gained the middle ground he could tip the delicate balance and invade Vinzar through the stony mountains without having to worry about offending Clairon. He breathed in deeply of the chilly air. Was it worth it though? He loved another woman. Was power, riches, war, and glory worth his chance at love and happiness? Kerlock stared at the Jinow Waterfalls and smiled, his eyes, hair, and fur turning black.

Day Twenty-Three: Still have this cold. I started some fun crafty projects to decorate our Christmas tree and apartment without being super spendy! I am excited. This next picture is 

beautiful and mysterious.

Second Chance at Happiness

Snippets and Shorter Stories Makes a Splash

Day Twenty-Two. Man this cold is knocking me out! Luckily I have an awesome mom who took care of me and a niece who loves to play. I thought this next piece was cute and probably not far in our future if scientists continue to mess with nature. Enjoy!

Gavin and the Musical Jumping Fish

Musical Jumping Fish.

6 for $50. Ships within 1 week of purchase. Guaranteed alive.

Gavin lowered the newspaper ad. He needed them. There was an large fish tank on the piano with nothing but snails and fake plants slowly gathering algae. It screamed at him every time he played piano. Fill Me. He begged his parents for weeks: pleading, subtle hints, reasoned arguments, and bribery.  Finally, for his twelfth birthday, his parents consented to buy him the Musical Jumping Fish. Nobody came to his party but that didn’t matter. He had six new best friends who shared his love of music.

He poured their orange scaly bodies into the water, each one about the size of his hand. He named them as they hit the water. Bach. Plop. Mozart. Plop. Brahms. Plop. Chopin. Plop. Beethoven. Plop. Wagner. Plop. The water vibrated with their humming, the plants swaying with their circular swimming. He played a single note. Their slender bodies began to glow, casting blue and green rays of light over the dark room. They looked at him in anticipation. Gavin nearly toppled the piano bench, jumping in excitement. Gathering his composure, he sat down and raised his hands over the smooth, black and white keys.

A Different Kind of Forest in Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Twenty-One:  Ugh, I woke up every 3-4 hours last night gasping for breath and desperate for water. Now my throat hurts even more and nose is raw. Colds are one of the worst! On the plus side, I am done with my second project in Spanish so, yay. Now I guess I will go to work and hope it won't be exceedingly boring.

Forest of Secret Keys

Patience walked among the iron keys, hands clasped behind his back. Mists of Sleep blanketed the land, soothing the humming of the keys. Forgetting Ivy slowly engulfed them. When they were fully covered and thus protected against Grandfather Death, Patience could leave and rejoin his Father Time and Mother Earth. He had walked among the giant, dangerous keys for eons and knew that it would take another couple for the slow, creeping ivy to run its course. Grandfather Death sought for the Secret Keys to unlock the rooms in the Mountain of Secrets. but that must not happen. Father Time had asked him to bear the burden of guarding the keys in the Forgotten Isle. While his task was heavy to bear, Patience knew it would be worth it if Life would be preserved throughout the Universe. Some secrets were meant to be forgotten. Patience yawned, shook his head, and continued his slow, steady pace through the the Forest of Secret Keys.

Gnarr Welcomes you to Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Twenty:  We don't have much time left in the month of November. Then it will be December and Christmas will practically be over. Soon after that we will be welcoming in the new year...but until then, enjoy another snippet and drink some hot chocolate!

Invasion of the Toothed Devils

"It's not fair." Gnarr grumbled to his favorite grandfather tree. "I was on watch duty just last week. Just because I am small doesn't mean I don't have talents." His voice grew in volume as the blue flames blazed brighter in his eye sockets. Gnarr paced back and forth in front of the winding stairs leading out of the Ent Forest. The elderly tree moaned in response, but Gnarr wasn't listening. "I'll show them. I can be a warrior just like my dad. I'll kill a Toothed Devil and return a hero! Then they will have to respect me." 

Gnarr took one solid step down the rough stone staircase, then faltered, his eyes losing their brilliance. He thought of his dad, the greatest warrior the Treeling race had ever seen.  He had been tall, strong, and fluid in battle against the Pecking Demons. Then one day he had walked down the winding stairs to battle their new enemy the Toothed Devil and never returned. If his father couldn't win against them, how was he ever going to kill one? Gnarr's eyes dimmed and he sat down, still on the first step, sighing. He stared at the carved head which marked the entrance to the and stood as a reminder of the Growth Age of the Treelings before they had fallen and become mere shadows of their former selves. Absorbed in his thoughts he failed to hear the whispered warnings from the Elder Trees. Something was climbing the winding stairs.

Never Insult a Hummingbird in Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Nineteen: I think I might be getting the hang of this snippets thing. The stories have been coming to me easier and I feel like my ability to write them is improving. Yay! This next one is for my mum who loves a good hummingbird.

The Island of Animalia

Bevi, Korin, and Ritva stood in a circle, discussing the next course of action. Evrick couldn’t contain his frustration anymore. He kicked at the dead leaves and sickly trees, screaming. “Why aren’t we out there looking for more Guardians? We are running out of time and we still have three left to find. I don’t need to remind you what happens if we don’t find their key and open this door before--”

“Excuse me! Hmmm. You broke my favorite resting branch! Hmmm.” A small, piercing voice cut through his rampage, stilling everyone. Looking around, they spotted a small white hummingbird with a blood-red throat hovering a few feet away above a ghostly white broken tree. “Well, aren’t you going to...hmmm...fix it and apologize?"

  “Apologize?” Everick retorted. “Just find a new branch to rest on, there are plenty of them here. We don’t have time to waste on fixing a pathetic looking tree just because it is your favorite.” With that he turned at stormed off to look for more Guardians.

   The little bird flew to another branch and puffed out his body, sticking his head in the air and glaring at the remaining three. It was then they noticed a small glint on his body. He had a key around his tiny body; he was a guardian.  
“Well, see if I give my key to that spoiled prince! Hmmm.  He thinks his problems are above me and everyone else. You can tell him I wouldn’t help him even if he begged. Hmmm. Which I highly doubt he would.” And with that the affronted bird flew off into the forest, leaving the three friends wondering how they were going to finish their mission now.

Snow Invades Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Eighteen: Yesterday I woke up with a stuffy nose and a small cough. By the time I got home from work at nine, my whole body ached and my brain was shutting down. Now after taking medicine and sleeping through the night I feel better but drained. This cold came out of nowhere. I guess my body couldn't defend itself against five sick bodies attacking it. Anyway, this next picture feels appropriate for how the fall was skipped and we went straight to winter.

An Empty Kingdom

White, gray, and the occasional brown was all Shanna could see. Snow covered everything and seemed to cling with determined strength. Shanna hoped that life would return soon. She hated winter; and, though she could see the sparkingly, crystalline beauty of it, she hated the cold, empty months before spring and summer brought life to the Kingdom of Verra.

She trudged through the courtyard, silently heading for the inner castle where she hoped she would find some answers to her questions. As she moved, the still silence of her surroundings unnerved her. It was the silence of a lifeless land. She raised her hood, her breath creating tiny white clouds. Shanna reached for the rusting handles and the heavy wooden door protestingly creaked open. Dragging the door behind her, she stood on the thick burgundy rug shaking the snow from her body and shoes. 

Surely she would find some kind of clue as to why all the inhabitants of the kingdom, including all the animals, had suddenly vanished without a trace. She shuddered. The memory of returning from her four month journey to find deserted towns, barren fields, and the outer castle in ruins still haunted and confused her. Disease or plagues would have left bodies behind, and all the houses still had all the belongings in them so the people hadn’t just moved somewhere else. And besides that, all the animals, including rodents and woodland creatures were missing too. It was just so bizarre and frightening. 

Wrapping her fur coat tighter around her body, Shanna walked slowly down the great hall, desperately seeking some reason from the king what had happened to people and animals of her beloved kingdom.

Peacocks in Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Seventeen: Whew, my Spanish presentation is done, now I just have to write an essay on Wednesday and work on my Shakespeare homework. Should be painful and difficult, right? Well, at least I am not back in High School like Penelope...

Peacock Rules the School

Penelope Peacock was done with the teasing; and most of all, she was tired of the vulgar bird pictures on her locker. This year was going to be different, she would make sure they would be talking about her for a different reason.

      She took a deep breath and stepped onto the field for first period P.E class. Her mother had helped her dye her normally curly, brown hair green and teal with blue highlights. She had a deep blue shirt on to match the shimmering green eye shadow. The whispering began as soon as she was spotted.

     Penelope smiled.

Beneath the Surface of Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Sixteen:  Ugh, I have a huge project due in Spanish today and I need to work on my final paper for Shakespeare. We will see how today goes... Anyway, I know this picture is a little creepy but I really like the poem I wrote for it.  

Beneath the Surface

Beneath the surface

dwell the souls

of greedy men

who paid the toll.

One by one

they entered the lake,

too late they realized

their dire mistake.

The tormented spirits

cry to the moon,

pleading release from

their prison soon.

The next victims

drop their anchor

unaware of the

spirits’ rancor.

Cries of warning

fall on deaf ears,

the promise of gold

outweighs their fears.

A golden glint

shimmers below the water

reflecting in their eyes,

eager to slaughter.

Beneath the surface

they do dive,

never to rise

again alive.

A Robot in Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Fifteen: Several things to report: the tree looks amazing; he TV show Arrow, season two is both awesome and annoying; and the snowy, cold weather makes it hard to get out of bed and go to work. I find this poor little robot to be a sad but masterful drawing. Somehow there is emotion within its steel body. It makes you think about the future.

House Helper 3.0

Fall was its favorite time of year. It seemed appropriate that its battery would fail as the leaves fell from the trees. Although House Helper 3.0 no longer had the energy to walk through the leaves, they still rustled as they blew by. The delicate leaves of orange, yellow, and red formed a small pile at his feet, slowly burying him. Its joints had long since rusted tight and its head wouldn’t lift. As the end drew near, a strange, choking feeling grew inside it. Analyzing the symptoms revealed what the feeling was. Fear. Helper knew that it was a .001 percent chance that some rodent would make its home in his chest structure. It hadn’t seen one in over 200 years. It just didn’t want to be alone when the time came. Still, it yearned for someone or something to witness his final moments just as it had for the humans, animals, and finally his fellow Helpers. As its battery depleted and its eye grew dim and shutdown, Helper had one last thought. If no one is around to see the world’s beauty, does it matter?

Snippets and Shorter Stories Floating on Mirror Lake

Day Fourteen: Eric is painting the tree! It looks awesome. I know this one is a little late. Eric always uses the computer. I love how calm the water is in this picture. It reminds me of waking up in Lake Powell. The still water with barely a ripple reflecting the sky is one of my favorite memories.

Riel the Wanderer

"So, you have come to hear her story have you? Well then, lets start at the beginning. The water had a calming effect her. Throughout her life water was her only solitude, especially Mirror Lake. It was her parents who figured out it was the only way to calm her constant crying. They would put her in a wooden dinghy and let it drift into the middle of the lake, carefully tied on with a strong rope that could be used to pull her back when she needed to be fed. She spent most of her childhood on it near Mirror Lake. This was the first clue that led the travelers to realize that she was a psychic."

"Her powers had awoken almost immediately, a manifestation of her power. But, oh how they pitied the child. What was a cruel curse at the moment would only become a heavy to bear gift. She would have no friends and constantly be plagued by her inability to be around people. Especially as an infant, she was confused, scared, and unable to understand why her thoughts were drowned out by others, why the emotions of others became hers. So much pain, suffering, and sorrow filled her till she could bear it no more."

"She will be powerful," The travelers had said, "but greatly troubled."

"And they were right. The world would remember her name. Riel. In years to come she would save an entire species, lose that which she wanted most, and love only one man. But for now, my great grandmother was barely a few months old, calmly floating in a small boat, away from the pain and suffering of her parents and the grim future."

Eroding Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Thirteen: I love looking at our new pretty, green wall. I can't wait until Eric paints on the tree and birds. Today is my niece's one year birthday. That is crazy to me. I have been around for her whole life. I don't know whether this next picture is a carving someone did or if it was photoshopped but I don't care. This would be awesome to see, especially in Europe. Seems like a God or Titan from forgotten days just waiting to emerge.

The Stone Magma Titan

He was nearly free, the wretched rock that encased him was nearly gone. Water and wind had made steadily chipped and eroded it away. They had chosen well, his fire power couldn’t destroy rock. His time for revenge was soon at hand. He could see his freedom, just a few more years. He could taste his captors blood, hear their screams of pain, smell their burning flesh being consumed. Rogerick would have smiled if his mouth could move. Soon, though, soon.

Snippets and Shorter Stories Finds the Tower

Day Twelve: Our project is moving along nicely. Eric has traced the tree and we have the paint all ready. Only problem is the roller was missing a key component. So he can't paint until we get that part. So lame. On a side note: I hope that this next picture is a real place. It looks gorgeous with the tower in the middle of a lake. So intriguing.

The Tear Sphere

“That’s where we need to go? That tiny tower is where the sphere has been for the past 300 years? Is this a joke?” Gwen scoffed, brushing aside the tree branches to get a better look at their destination. The four of them stood on the edge of the forest, gazing at the medieval tower situated in the middle of a green lake.

Raven stared at her with his black eyes. “Yes, Gwen, that is where we need to go, but maybe you should double-check the water if you think it is going to be easy.”

Gwen stuck her tongue out at him, gave Haren and Terren a pointed look, and edged closer to the green-blue water. It was eerily calm and still, as though nothing lived in it or touched its surface. Despite her earlier dismissal of the small lake, the closer she got the more unease she felt. Something wasn’t right about it, she just didn’t know what. When she got within a few feet of the water’s edge, Raven told her to stop. The setting sun elongated her shadow out into the water, though surprisingly the water seemed unaffected by the sun. Gwen, frowned thinking that strange that nothing shimmered or reflected off it’s surface. Muttering to herself, Gwen leaned forward to get a closer look and found herself staring into the eyes of some creature. It’s two crimson circles quickly joined by another, and another, and another, until she could see dozens of the floating twin orbs. With a shriek she scrambled back to Raven and the others, shivering uncontrollably.  

“Oh good, Gwen finally understands how hard it is going to be to cross the lake, retrieve the Tear Sphere, and return safely. Should be fun. Any ideas?” Raven’s tone suggested he wasn’t looking for an answer, which was good, because nobody had one for him.  “No? Well, then I guess we should camp the night, think on it, and wake at first light to discuss the matter. All in favor?” Three hands lifted up, and the group quickly, set up camp, lighting a fire and cooking a big dinner. They got little sleep, each group member deep in thought, and wary that whatever was in the lake, would come out to greet them.

Snippets and Shorter Stories Speaks to Our Mind

Day Eleven: It has turned bitingly cold outside!  On the plus side, Eric and I are painting one of our walls in the apartment.  We have a pretty green color to be a solid background, then Eric is going to paint a simple tree on one side and cute little birds chilling in it.  I am excited! It is really going to make the apartment more livable. When was the last time you painted?

Red in the Blue Ocean

Mira closed her eyes and relaxed her body, letting it sway with the ocean. Her tears barely noticeable before they mixed with the salty liquid. She felt a presence pushing through the water toward her. Peeking out of one eye she watched the wayrus approach her slowly, gliding forward until its great black eye was level with her body. Mira gazed, mesmerized at her own reflection. Bitterly, she noted how her flowing, short, red hair sharply contrasted with the different shades of the blue ocean. The great mammal blinked and, in a soft whisper, spoke in her mind. Why are you crying, Mira, Daughter of the great Water God, Sapphira?  

Snippets and Shorter Stories Caught in a Fog

Day Ten: November is already a third over. Another week of school and work for me. Sometimes, I feel a pull from nature, beckoning me to just forget all I have to do and run away. As I get closer and closer to graduating, the pull gets gradually stronger. Senioritis is real. One and a half more semesters!

The Fog in the Woods

A great wanderlust took hold of him like an invisible thread pulled him from the house into the open woods. Grabbing his grandmother’s blanket Sam pushed the front door open. Mopsy barked enthusiastically, following his friend and master out of the stuffy house. At first Sam moved jerkily, like a wooden puppet in the hands of a master puppeteer warming up his joints. After passing the mailbox though he broke into a fluid run following the well-worn path between the orchard and forest. A foggy haze blanketed the air, dulling the sun and his mother’s frantic call for him to return.