A Day in the Life of a Cat in Snippets and Shorter Stories

2.9 Phew, this was a whirlwind weekend. Between graduation and family, Eric and I kept busy. But the good news is I finally found my phone; it had been missing for almost a week! Artist: Rihards Donskis

Life of a Cat

Shadow Fury, Lord of the 1927 Realm, stalked through the soft grass, searching for enemies. Puny creatures tirelessly sought to overwhelm him and take the his castle and the neighboring houses. Shadow Fury had to constantly be on the alert: attacks could come from both the ground and the sky at anytime. Crouching behind a bush, his black fur blended in well with the shadows, Shadow Fury opened his eyes wide and gazed for signs of enemy movement. Nothing. Second scan. There! A tall tuft of grass moved and a furry, vile rodent emerged, sniffing the air. A scout! Shadow Fury tensed and waited for it to move closer before striking with lightning speed. His strike proved true and soon the struggling, frightened scout stopped moving. Up in a nearby tree, several birds chirped and squawked. No doubt warning the approaching army to retreat. He thought smugly, preening his paws. Satisfied that his realm was once again safe, Shadow Fury returned to his castle with his head held high to eat his captured prize and perhaps gain some of it’s power. Only he could protect the two-legged servants he allowed in his castle from the silent, deadly attacks. I am Shadow Fury, Lord of the 1927 Realm! Tremble before me! I command thee, servants, to open the castle door! Shadow Fury roared and, when the door opened, regally walked inside and climbed his observation throne.

Snippets and Shorter Stories 2.0 Wishes on a Dandelion

2.8 Today I graduate from the University of Utah. I am so excited to be done but I had some great classes. I will miss learning but not tests and assignments. This next snippet was rather fun to figure out how to show the way children interact with stories. Artist: Amanda Cass.

Dandelion Wish

Abigail broke away from her father and ran toward Dandelion Field. Her father eventually caught up and urged her to go up the cliff to where a plaque stood overlooking the field below. Together they climbed the stairs and leaned against the railing.

  "What do you see, Abby?"

   Abigail thought for a moment staring at the field, then gasped when she noticed it. "The dandelions are in the shape of a teardrop!"

   Her father smiled and moved to read the plaque. It contained the legend of the mysteriously shaped clump of dandelions.

"There once was a girl who was very happy and her name was Danielle. She lived with her mother and father in a nice little house on the edge of the woods. One day, however, a mighty pack of wolves killed her father while he was hunting for food. (Gasp!) Then her mother got sick and also perished leaving the girl all alone with no one to care for her. (Oh, no, daddy, that is terrible!) Indeed it was terrible; especially for the little girl. Everywhere she looked things reminded her of her parents and it wasn't long before her heart couldn't take it anymore.”

“She hiked through the forest until she came upon a meadow. Sitting in the middle near a single dandelion, Danielle began to cry. (I would too!) She cried and cried and cried until her tears nourished the dandelion and it grew bigger and bigger. (It did?) It wasn't long before it was taller than her. She plucked it, held it up to her mouth, and made a wish. (What did she wish for?) She wished to be flown far away from this land that held only pain for her.

Then she blew.

But the seeds floated back to the ground for there was no wind to carry them away. (Oh no!) She cried some more and more dandelions grew until she was surrounded by them. The few nearest her grew taller than the first one and when she plucked them a great wind arose and caught hold of the dandelions and carried her far away where she could be happy. (Yay! Her first wish did come true after all, daddy!) The only things she left behind were the small cottage and the teardrop shaped clump of dandelions.” Abigail’s father finished the story and stared down at the dandelions below. He had learned long ago that it was better to be patient with her interruptions. So he paused every now and then so she could speak before continuing. He smiled down at her, watching the way her face scrunched in thought as she stared at the dandelions below. Together they watched the fluffy seeds catch in the breeze and dance through the wind until nothing was left but the empty stalks.

Snippets and Shorter Stories 2.0 Walks on the Beach

2.7 I am excited to be back in the groove of writing and posting everyday. I like sharing my writing with you readers and hope that you enjoy the variety of snippets I post. Remember to comment after you read them if you feel so inclined!

The Land and Sea Intermediary

The sand is warm and soft as I step off my porch and onto the beach. I love squishing my toes in it and watching my feet sink and slowly disappear. My daily walk along the beach was something I had started over a year ago and still looked forward to every morning. Most of the time the sea was calm and gentle as it washed ashore. Last night there had been a fierce storm that threatened to prevent my morning walk but, luckily, it had calmed down only a couple hours before dawn. The beach was smooth and free from footprints or trash. That is how I like it. Taking a deep breath of the salty air, I stare out at the rising sun and the way the light ripples along the surface of the ocean like a skipping stone. Sunrises always seem more beautiful than sunsets to me. Most people couldn’t see a difference but that didn’t matter to me. Sunrises signal the beginning of the day and a fresh start at life. And for some reason, I feel like today is going to be the beginning of something amazing. I smile as the last of the purple and orange streaks disappear and meander toward the pier.

“Ow!” I stumble as something hard and pointy dug into my left foot. It was probably a piece of trash that some tourist left behind. I rub my foot for a moment then crouch down to see what had caused my distress. It was a small gold and green ring that looked like a person whose arm, as it curled around to form the ring, transformed into a fish tail. It was certainly odd but quite pretty. I pick it up and a sudden gust of wind sweeps over me. I shield my eyes from the biting sand until the wind resumes its usual gentle breeze, grateful that I had put my hair in a ponytail and I hadn’t put my contacts in yet. I slide the ring onto my middle finger and to my surprise it is a perfect fit. Hmm, things just keep getting stranger and stranger. I still want to finish my walk and stand up, but when I look forward there is a woman standing in front of me. A chill runs up my spine as I notice there are no foot prints leading up to the woman anywhere in the sand.

The woman wears a dress that appears to be made of metallic purple fish scales and her hair is still dripping. She speaks and her voice sounds like the mist that rises from a waterfall. “Chosen one, may you be a better intermediary than I was.” Then she thrusts a damp, sandy book into my hand and disappears like the spray of the ocean against the rocks. The breeze disappears with her and I am left staring at nothing, mouth hanging open. I snap my mouth shut and look down at the book to make sure it really happened. It also looked to be made from fish scales. It had the same symbol as the ring on the cover along with a title: Handbook for the Land and Sea Intermediary. What could that possibly mean? I stand transfixed for several minutes before I decide to cut my walk short and head home. As I walk, it feels as though hundreds of eyes are staring at me though from a quick glance around me, I am alone on the sand. Hugging the book tight to my chest I practically sprint home not bothering to wipe my feet as I run inside and slam the door shut.

Music is Magic in Snippets and Shorter Stories 2.0

2.6 Today is the day; my final final for my Bachelors' degree. Wish me luck and enjoy this enchanting story about the fairy Moonbeam! Artist: Chezhina Svetlana.

Moonbeam's Flute

Moonbeam knew that this latest flute was the best she had ever made. It was long, delicate, and it fit perfectly in her hands. Moonbeam looked at everyone else’s flutes and was surprised by how similar they all were. None had strayed far from the beginner flutes they had made over the weeks. She felt a sliver of doubt. Would her flute, so different, produce beautiful music? She looked down at it and ran her hand along it, feeling the smooth Elder Tree wood. She smiled, of course it would.

When it was her turn, she walked to the beginning of the tree ring and held it out for Queen Meadowlark to critique. If the Queen approved her flute, Moonbeam would move on to the second phase; playing it. If her instrument was indeed a reflection of her power and her body changed to match the music, she would pass and move up to a second-class fairy. She would get a new home in the middle branches of the forest (instead of on the ground floor with the rest of the third-class fairies), attend different classes, and gain more power. Moonbeam held her breath as Queen Meadowlark delicately fingered the instrument and looked at it from every angle. Finally, she smiled, nodded, and handed it back to Moonbeam, who lit up with anticipation. She had passed! Now was her chance to prove Treeshade wrong. She wasn’t just some third-class fairy who would spend her days in the forest. She would be a first-class fairy someday and travel the world. 

Breathing deeply to steady her fluttering wings, Moonbeam put her lips to the mouth and played an alluring and enchanting song. At first nothing happened but then her fiery red hair doubled in length and faded to gold at the ends. When her hair was done growing, a moonflower bloomed on the side of her head. This was followed by her wings growing and transforming into a more intricate design, changing from clear to a beautiful purple and teal ombre. Her white dress lengthened and also turned purple and teal to match her wings. Moonbeam’s song ended. She felt her heart soar as Queen Meadowlark draped the golden chains of a second-class fairy over her head and down her wavy hair. Princess Rosedew approached and extended her hands as she greeted Moonbeam warmly. “Welcome, Princes Moonbeam, to the second-class.” Then Princess Rosedew turned and floated away toward the middle level of the trees with Princess Moonbeam following close behind. Without a backward glance at Treeshade or her outraged face, Princess Moonbeam soared gracefully up to her new life.

Castle in Ruins in Snippets and Shorter Stories 2.0

2.5 I am still going strong and proud of it. Artist: Kama Sofie Gaiadottir.

The Rising Shadow

Even from a distance the scout knew that something was wrong as he rode toward Rendell Castle. The drawbridge hung halfway down and looked splintered and broken and there were holes in the stone towers and along the outer wall. Garin’s suspicions were confirmed when he rode around to the back and saw an entire section of wall scattered around the surrounding area. Pulling his spear from the safety latch he cautiously entered the abandoned keep. 

Everywhere some form of plant clung to life on the stone buildings. Ivy creeped up the walls, slowly covering them and grass slowly engulfed broken arrows and other weapons, smashed carts, and overturned tables. There wasn’t a single sign that anyone died here--no bones or armor anywhere. That could only mean one thing. Shadow beasts and orcs. Orcs broke down the walls and shadow beasts took anything living they could sniff out and left their cursed mark on the ground. All he had to do was look and...there! His lips curled as his eyes found a dark spot on the ground where nothing grew. Someone had probably died there and been eaten. It would be a long time before anything green touched that soil. Garin shuddered as he walked by it. The fear was faint and nearly gone but it must have been extremely powerful to have lasted this long.

Garin slowly made his way around the keep, his horses clip-clops sounding loud and echoing off the empty walls and buildings. He stopped his horse and fingered the leaves of a young aspen tree. It couldn’t be more than five years old and it would have taken a year or two for plants to move into the cursed keep. That means that the Rendell had fallen perhaps seven years ago. Garin felt a twinge of regret that it had taken so long for his own castle to wonder why they hadn't heard from Rendell in a while and send a scout to find out. With a final look at the aspens in the courtyard, Garin slid off his horse with one fluid swoop of his leg and strode up the cracked stone steps and into the castle where Lord Ren had lived. He didn’t know what he expected to find but he had to at least look for some clue as to what had happened. 

The tall oak and iron door was splintered and broken though, amazingly, it still stood upright. Unwilling to disturb it, Garin lightly stepped through the hole made by an orc launcher and shuddered as the feelings of the fallen hit him. Fear, terror, hatred, pain. He nearly groaned. He hadn’t felt such strong feelings such as these in nearly twenty years. Outside, nature had eased the ghost feelings but not in here. Garin had to take several steadying breaths before he could continue. He hated this power and not for the first time wished his father had chosen a woman from anywhere besides Mystic Castle to be his wife.

Graydon's Final Goodbye Snippets and Shorter Stories 2.0

2.4 And so it begins. My final week before graduation. I have one last final on Wednesday then I am free. My brother-in-law will be traveling here with his family so he can walk with me so this will be a busy week. This next snippet is a tragic tale. Sorry.  Artist: Gina Chacón, "After the Rain." Final Goodbye “It is said that the dead never truly leave us. They are able to communicate through the elements,such as wind and water, if we only stop and listen.” Mimi read aloud from the book, Grief and Coping, that her aunt Karen had given to her a few days ago. Mimi stood alone on a stone bridge in the rain, her charcoal gray dress gently floating in the breeze. She stared out at the drab, dark rainclouds above her and the dull, choppy lake below her. The color had drained from her world when Graydon had died nearly two months ago from a bike accident. If only she could see him one last time, hear his voice so she could tell him she loved him, maybe she could...no. Mimi shook her head unconsciously.

Snippets and Shorter Stories 2.0 coming soon...

Carly here! Guess what? It is almost time for my next monthly challenge! I know, right? I am just as excited as you are. It will begin on May 1st, which is in two days! Crazy.

Since my last post I have written many more little snippets, started a new job where I met several fellow authors, and started about three more novels. Yep, I have way to many ideas to handle and all the inspiration I need. Isn't that awesome!? 

My new job is at the City Library and it is both a blessing and a curse. I am surrounded by hundreds of books and it encourages me to keep going and finish a novel. But...I am surrounded by hundreds of books and I just want to read them all. I keep adding more to my 'to read' list than I am crossing off. Oh well, I enjoy working there and I will be graduating in two weeks and will have more "time" and motivation to read and write. 

If you enjoyed something you read that I will write please comment and tell me about it. Perhaps it reminded you of another book you have read that you want me to know about. Or it made you smile, tear up, reminisce, shiver, beg for more, etc. let me know, because I want to know. Seriously. I want to know.

Or, if you are inspired to write, write. Even if it just a small teeny tiny passing thought, please do it. It could be anything:  a continuation of my story or a completely different tale. And after your story is written, post it. I really loved when my readers wrote their own stories from the pictures and posted them in the comments. I believe we all have stories to tell and so I encourage you to do so.

Thanks for supporting me and I hope you enjoy Snippets and Shorter Stories 2.0!

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.