A DEAL MADE My Granny was a bit soft in the head, but she always told us kids great stories. I didn’t particularly think of her as crazy, like my Da or Ma did. I just thought she was different, but fun. One of her favorite subjects was fairies. Fairies under hill, fairies in the trees (I knew they were actually nymphs), fairies living in the barn (brownies, more likely), fairies all around. I never got tired of hearing her stories about them, even if they were lies. Besides stories, she was full of warnings. Don’t walk through Moonbeams, Nita.
Category: Stories
BARK AND THE PIRATE’S CHARM Thunder rumbled and roared above as The Barracuda cut through the waves. Wood creaked and added to the ship’s complaints to the howling wind. Jochi dashed over the deck. Stomach churning, he looked into every nook and cranny. Rain washed cold sweat from his face and lightning illuminated a wild look in his eyes. His lucky umbrella was gone. Jochi had scoured the ship from top to bottom, twice, and there was no trace of it. It had taken him years to save enough money. Years of waving a sword and roaring curses. Years of
HOW MAPLE CAME TO BE Winds of the story chronicles Promise of a story in the wind called the seed. The prospect of having a tale of its own was too much to resist, impossible to deny. The story swirled and twirled around the seed, vying for its attention. It whispered secrets, sang praises and seduced the seed with a promise of adventure. This story would lead the seed to distant lands, give it more than it ever imagined. A life like no other, a soul strong enough to stand any storm and a companion. The seed listened to it
HER LAST STAND Kyra stared at the blade in her lap, sharpening it with careful movements. It was only a few months ago that she’d learned how to do it. She had learned many things since then. Seen many things. Too many. She shivered as the wind blasted through the mountain pass and glanced at the hulking shadows rising all around them. They had renamed them the Last Stand Mountains. The place where hope went to die. Tomorrow, she would take the sword and fight. There was no one left to deny her, it was her right as the elder
LILJA’S NEW WATERFALL Lilja tucked in her wings and dove into the waterfall. The water fell with her, adding speed and pushing her deeper towards the bottom. Her fingers graced the branch before she had to swim to the surface, she almost made it this time. Floating, she let the stream carry her around as she evened out her breathing and tried to come up with a new plan. That stupid branch was blocking the crab in its den and she had the get it out. No matter how many times she dove, her tiny body couldn’t fight the waterfall’s
TO THE SOUND OF THE MAPLE LEAF RAG Nancy tapped her foot in time to the music and looked around. Heads bobbed and shoulders swayed. She wasn’t the only one affected by the handsome piano player. His fingers flew easily over the keys and the ragtime filled the air. She forked a tiny piece of the lemon merengue pie into her mouth and tried to keep her eyes from wandering. What if he noticed her staring? Her dress was new and Nancy slid her hands over the soft fabric. It was her favorite color, canary yellow, and it had beautiful
IT DOESN’T HURT TO ASK The bike sputtered, and Carola frowned at the blinking steam gauge. She needed to find a service station before the power ran out and stranded her by the road. No matter how beautiful the French countryside was, she had no intentions to push her bike through it. Slowing down, she tried to spot signs of life, and after a while, a ramp appeared to her right. Carola cruised to the station, but cobwebs, thicker than curtains, hung from the broken windows and the tanks stood rusted over. No point stopping here. She made it back