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Friday, January 29, 2016

Breath. By Hannah Walker

K guys, so this one is a little weird, kinda a onomatopoeia thing, by yours truley! AKA=me.
 Enjoy! :)


Breath.                  
            BY Hannah Walker                          
Breath. In, out. Focus. Kick, Kick, Kick. Remember why you’re here. The thought plays thorough my head. A constant mantra. Focus. Don’t fail, you can’t sink. A flash of silver crosses my view. Agent 4610 has located subject Thirsty Dynamo, at 12:00. I make a mental note in my head. Dive! Dive! Dive! The voices say. They talk to me a lot now. Down. Down. Down. Seemingly endless blue. Never ending. Never stop- There! The most beautiful one I’ve seen yet. Flash. Sparkle. Shimmering. I can almost see my hand coming towards it. So reflective. So shin-There! Eureka! It feels so cool in my hand. So cool. So, so cold. Blurring. Burning, not in my hand. My chest. My- Breeaattthh. I gasp. Air. I. nee- Breath.

At first the alluring smell of the pastry only tantalizes me. But, slowly but surely, The smells. Oh, the smells. Buttery. Penuts. A sickly sweet strawberry preserve. Crunch. Crunch. The leaves beneath my shoe. Clink. Clatter. The coins going into the register. Crinkle. The donut going in the bag. “Good’ay, n’ have a good one to you!” the clerk cheerfully dismisses me.  The fall of the shoes of strangers. Crunch. Crunch. The flash of green. The peculiar flash of green? Closer. Closer. I finish the delicacy, and rush over to the fountain. Who is that? I think Green, The color is too bright. Splash. The waters have an irregular pattern. Whish. Whoosh. Spur. The regular pattern is altered. Whish. Whoosh. Splash! The abnormal green fish flails in the water. I reach. Almost, almost- There! This is no fish. A head. Human. Cap; yellow. The alluring smell of the pastry stand, only steps away, teases me.

Bright. To bright. I am met with the most curious eyes. He stars for several beats. “Who are you?” he inquires. Who art thou? You’re the one pulling me from my obligation! “Henry.” He cocks his head to the side. His eyes raking over me in the strangest manner. “And why are you swimming in this fountain, Henry?” He smells of the pastry stand, just steps away. The glint of the silver coin, grasped in my hand catches his attention. “Have you been stealing from the official state of Kansas’ fountain?” I shake my head. “I have not been stealing, sir. But only taking what the voice tells me.” I reply. His eyes soften, slightly. “Shall I escort you home Henry?” I nod my head. Together we walk towards the pastry stand and get a treat, Then he guides me to my home, which I have provided the location of. “Henry?” he peers over at me. “Yes?” I respond. “Breath.”





Tuesday, January 19, 2016

The Lion and the Gazelle


The Lion and the Gazelle


A Lion, with a long, golden, mane, sat on top of a gigantic hoard of gold, jewelry, and gems. The lion had everything all of the other animals have wanted, and kept it all to himself. The lion was greedy and wanted more.  But their was a Gazelle, who had nothing but a green field of grass to run in, and she was happy. She did not have any gold, nor any sapphires or rubies, she had only grass, and was happy. The Lion always made fun of her because she was not as rich as he, and all she has was plain, old grass, while he had mountains of treasure. But one day, a terrible storm came, and all of the lions gold flew away forever, yet the Gazelle still had her grass. The lion now had nothing, he put all of his faith into his hoard, yet the Gazelle still had her grass to eat and to run in.



MORAL:

Do not put all of your mind on one thing the others do not have, because they may be richer than you in a different point of view.



This was January's guest story! Thank you so much for submitting this! We really appreciate it :{ )

~Hannah, Twisted Fables Main Author 

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

The Fair Folk Plant’s Sprout By Hannah Walker

Whoa! That was a long break! So i'm making up for it! Here's this week's story!
~Hannah


The Fair Folk Plant’s Sprout   By Hannah Walker
Once upon a time, in the days of magic and wizards, there was a magical garden in the middle of Hasneverhappend, located in the country of Neverwillbe, in that garden grew the Thumb plant, which was the origin of the Fair Folk, and on each summer solstice a new sprite was born. On a particularly peculiar passing of the spring, the enchanted bud bloomed, and out sprung a queer little lad who had never a name. He was disoriented at first, discovering these bizarre stick like things, that bent, attached to the end of his arm. He could jump! He could spring from leaf from leaf and eat things so sweet, things he had never tasted before. He had adventures in the garden as well. Once while he was feeling quite cocky, he decided to save a fly that had flown into the spider’s web. But once he had freed the poor thing, he himself got caught, and was almost the dinner of the hairy beast that owned the thing, but fortunately the rain came at the perfect time and washed away the spider and freed him. He was investigating the perplexing outsized garden, to him it was, but to the human’s eye, it was quite usual, when a grotesquely gigantic, clammy hand scooped him up, to meet large stormy gray eyes, that peered at him in a curious examine, that soon turned to a burning rage. Then with a feminine voice that sounded as raspy as the Indian Ocean, spoke in a furiously imperious growl, “Now what is this! Have I found a pest in my garden, I have!” when the pixie fervently shook his head, the human raked her eyes across him once more, and continued, “Have you not at least the sense to deny!? Bah! I shall put you to good use then!” and with that she encircled the Fair Folk miracle creature with her damp fist, and he felt the harsh sway that, he could not explain how he knew, meant he was being taken from his dwelling.

The woman, he now knew as the cook, placed him on a hard surface, that faintly resembled a tree he had seen fall by a strange device, and remained still, observing him for what seemed to be forever. Then, being snapped from her trance by the faint chime of the clock, bustled around the room to place large objects around him that he had never seen before. Oh wait!  He thought I have seen that one before! I used to have one just like it! That is a knife! And that is a bowl! I wonder what she plans to do with it. Shall she cook me a feast of nuts and berries? “Alright little boy, well I suppose you need a proper name, unless you already have on?” after a beat of tense silence, she bulldozed on “I shall take that as a no then? Right then, how about a common name?” She cocked her head to the side “Tom! Tom it shall be! But no, that is too common, How about Tom Thumb, since you are barely taller than a thumb!” He gave her surprising look of excitement; I have never a name before now! I must be a proper boy then!  Then she rustled around the kitchen, she had explained the name of the room, and came back with a few select items. “As a mentioned before in the patch, ‘You shall be put to good use’ so you shall help me cook my mincemeat pie.” Oh! Mincemeat pie! Have I ever had one of those before? Nay.  After she had combined all of the ingredients into a crust, she asked for him to check the pie for any missing ingredients. Tom, of course, had not seen anything wrong with this, so he climbed in, only to have a thin ring of the sweet dough crimped around him. He was almost into the oven when he managed to poke his head out, and startle the cook half to death. “Ahh!” she exclaimed, and dropped the pie, splattering its contents over the stone floor. “Plagues! No what shall we have for supper!?” she glared at the boy for an instant before something flickered behind her eyes. “Ahh, now boy, do not fret, all boys amess something at some time, it is a natural thing to replace the lost though…” she drawled on “Bah! Just go out and get me a fish, the biggest one that you may see, and be home before dark.” Then she sent him out into the wood, into the trees, out on the soft surface of the earth, to find the biggest trout he could spot.

Tom Thumb set out into the wilderness to find a lake, and that he did, rather quickly. He threaded a little grub onto a blade of grass tied to a twig grasped in his fist. He waited a while before he felt that tug, a tug to put all other before to waste. This was the plumpest, most delectable fish he had ever seen, and once he managed to pull the creature over, onto the shore, he was completely soaked in river water. Tom succeeded in bringing the fish to the doorstep before it flopped up and swallowed him whole. This commotion brought the cook the door and she had scanned the scenery for several minutes before looking down and seeing a plump fish waiting at her doorstep. She grinned “I guess the lad had a mind to go back to his roots, I do not blame him, but, he would have been a nice appetizer.” And with that, she reached down and seized the meat, and brought it into her homely cottage. What a witch! Tom thought I have been tricked into serving a witch her supper! So he decided to destroy the inside by eating it. He nibbled, and nobbled, and slurped his way around the beast until it was as hollow as an ancient oak tree. And then it was easier to pop his head out and scare the lady so badly that she tossed the fish behind her and crumpled to the ground. Tom freed the rest of his body from the fish and returned to the wilderness to adventure, to see more of what was out there, for he thought; I have learned my lesson sure for!
Make sure you don’t follow every giant from the sky, for most of them mean you harm! And! Be careful! For he was grateful for escaping with his life.