The Story Eater

I finally wrote a story that I am able to post on here! This story is unique for two reasons. 

1. It's short! No posting "Part 1", "Part 2". etc.

2. It's a children's story. For those of you who just started following this blog: I don't write children's stories. That is my sister's forte.

So without further delay I present to you:

The Story Eater

Once upon a time there was an old woman who was known in her village for telling stories. One night just as she was getting ready for bed when she heard a knock on her door.

“Spinner Emily.” The village parents begged. “Tell us a story so that we can go home and tell our children. None of us can remember a single tale and our babies can't sleep without them!”

Spinner Emily invited everyone into her small house and sat down in her rocking chair. She began rocking back and forth. Her face looked sad and she chewed on her bottom lip.

“Folks,” she finally said. “Something must have happened to the scrolls up in story cave. I can't remember any tales either."

Everyone began to talk and gasp among themselves. What could have happened to all of the stories? And who would go up there on such a dark night to check on them?

“I will go.” Spinner Emily offered. “I will go see what has happened to them. After all, they belonged to me before they belonged to the rest of the village.”

Many of the men felt bad inside but not one offered to go with her. Who knew what could be up on the mountain or even in the story cave? It was too dark to see and they were all afraid.

Spinner Emily wrapped a warm blanket around her shoulders, took a stick to help her climb the mountain, and set off.

It was a long journey and there was only a small sliver of moon to help her see. Spinner Emily tripped many times but finally she came near the story cave.

A deep groan floated down to her ears. And then a moan and a loud wail.

“Oh my,” Spinner Emily thought. “Someone is in trouble. But their voice is so big! They must be very big too. Surely,” her heart began to beat harder. “Surely it is not a giant!”

Giant or not the brave lady trudged forward. Peeping carefully into the cave she saw nothing but darkness. Then there was a flash of fire and a deafening howl.

“A dragon!” Spinner Emily gasped in surprise and nearly left then and there. But the dragon seemed in pain and his wails made her think of the village children all waiting for their story before they could go to sleep.

(As I have said before, I don't consider myself an artist. Mostly because drawing does not come easily for me. This dragon gave me fits!)

So, gathering her courage she walked right into the cave. “Mister Dragon.” She yelled hoping to make her voice sound large. “What is the matter?”

“It's too much!” groaned the dragon. “There are too many!”

“Too many what?” Spinner Emily shouted and stepped further into the cave.

“The stories! There are too many!” The dragon whined.

“Our stories!”Spinner Emily whispered to herself. “He ate our stories!”

“Yes!” The dragon answered. (Spinner Emily had forgotten how very good hearing dragons have.) “I ate the scrolls. But I wish I hadn't! They tumble all over my head and won't let me sleep!”

“Oh Mister Dragon!” Spinner Emily said. “Dragon's don't do well with stories didn't you know that?”

“I do now!” the dragon moaned and threw himself down on the floor.

“You must get them back out!” Spinner Emily was beginning to feel sorry for the huge fellow.

“How?” snarled the dragon. “They burn as I swallow them. They would be nothing but ashes in my stomach. I can't just cough them up.”

“I don't know. Let me think about it for a little while.” Spinner Emily said and sat down in the mouth of the cave.

So they sat, and they sat. And poor Spinner Emily could hardly think of a way to help the dragon because she was feeling badly for all the village children he couldn't go to sleep. Finally dawn came and then sun shown brightly in the cave lighting up the dragon's purple scales. Spinner Emily saw something then that gave her an idea.

“Oh Mister Dragon.” She said. The dragon looked her with his big yellow eyes and she felt her stomach flip flop. He could eat her in two bites. “I have an idea. Your powerful claws scratch very well into this rock. If you sat here in the cave and carved all of the stories into the walls, they would be out of your head and you would feel much better!”

The dragon laid a claw in his stomach and rolled onto his back for a few minutes. “Yes!” He finally said. “I think I will try it.”

So he began scratching and scraping and Spinner Emily watched closely as the stories were written on the walls. As each letter and word were written she remembered more and soon began to get quite excited. Finally the dragon finished and with a big sigh he turned towards Spinner Emily.

“After this I will stick to eating sheep and cows! No more stories for me.” Then he crawled to the mouth of the cave, flew away and never came back.

Spinner Emily went back to her village. The village parents could now remember the stories and soon all of the very tired children were asleep. Spinner Emily was praised for rescuing the stories and for getting the dragon to carve them on the cave wall, where they could never again be eaten or stolen.

The End

So...What do you think? 

Title Challenge #2

One of our readers requested another title challenge. Since I am not currently writing anything that I can post on here I decided I would go ahead and grant her request.

So here's the game. You see the below picture? If that was the cover of a book, what would the title be? Give us your answers below!

Drifter - Part 3

 Luke rose early the next morning. The summer sun was barely peeking over the trees, and little light spilled through the single window in the loft. Luke glanced over at the makeshift bed they had crammed into the corner. Timothy's form was still and his breathing sounded regular. Luke pulled on his trousers and lowered himself down the ladder. Mama was already kneading bread at the table. She looked up when Luke approached. “Where are you going so early this morning?”

“Just for a little walk. I'll be back before breakfast.” Luke kissed her cheek.

Mama smiled. “You should meander over to that plot of land your father was talking about last night. There's a pretty little spot on the east side that would be perfect for a large house. I hear the owner wants quite a price for it, but with the King's gold, you should have a fair chance in getting it.”

“Mama … I don't think I'm quite ready …” Luke could feel his face burning.

“Oh please, Luke, I raised you! I've watched you grow up strong and learn to work with your hands. You are more ready than your Father was when he married me. Why, we hardly had a scrap of food to call our own. Lived on the back of my Papa's farm until Richard could secure a place to call his own.” Mama stroked Luke's cheek. “You've got that man look in your eyes. You can do anything you set your mind to do.”

Luke looked away. “I will take a look at it.”

Mama almost squealed and wrapped him in a hug. “Oh, sorry. I just got flour all over your shirt.” She pulled away, her eyes teary.

Luke dusted off his torso. “Don't worry about it, Mama.” He tried to laugh, grateful for the change of subject.

“But I am worried.” Her eyes were still teary. “Worried I'm not going to get my grandsons soon.”

“Oh, Mama.” Luke tried not to groan. “You've got Timothy to worry about now.”

She turned back to kneading her bread and her face clouded. “Well, he's hardly a child, and not my own at that.”

“But he is kin,” Luke added.

Mama didn't respond.

“I guess I'm going now.” Luke started for the door.

His mother forced a smile. “Enjoy your walk.”

“I will.” Luke stepped outside and took a deep breath. If she knew what he was really doing would she approve? Luke didn't know, but it didn't matter. He had to see if there was any sign the boy had lived.

Luke made his way to the river bank. If he had time on they way back he'd take the long way and stop at plot of land to make good on his word to his mother. He followed the bank for quite a ways, avoiding people if at all possible. He didn't need anyone to tell his Mom he'd been the opposite direction of the Barry's plot. He was just about there. The mouth of the river was just ahead. Luke scanned the trees, his ears were alert for any movement. There, footprints in the mud. Granted, they could belong to someone else, but they were small and made by bare feet. He followed them until they disappeared into the shrubbery and trees. Now which way?

Thwack! Something hard whacked Luke in the back of the head. “Hey!” Luke spun around.

A scrawny young man with a sandy head of curls and sparkling brown eyes stood over him bearing crude wooden sparring sword.

“Jon Fire! What in all of Amoz are you doing here?” Luke rubbed his head.

Jon grinned and swung his sword at the air. “I was looking for you.”

“But how did you get here? I thought you were still working off your father's debts in the Quartzland mines!”

“I was … Until I ran away.” Jon grinned again.

Luke shook his head. "H-how? Where's Julie? Is she here?” He squeezed Jon's shoulder. 

“She's here,” Jon smirked. He seemed to catch Luke's drift. “After escaping the mines, I went in search of her mistress and rescued her from that terrifying lady. Soon thereafter we convinced a captain to smuggle us across the Swiftish river in his ferry. Upon arriving on your shores, I left my fair sister with the dazzling Amelia Lamb and was headed to your house when I ran across you, your eyes fixated on the ground and your mind lost in who-knows-where.”

Luke laughed but guilt prodded his gut when Jon mention Amelia. Right. He was betrothed. He couldn't be interested in anyone else.

“What were you doing, anyway?” Jon asked.

Luke shrugged his shoulders. “I just dropped something.”

“What was it?” Jon was already scanning the ground.

“Oh, don't worry about it. It's not that important. Why don't you come eat breakfast with my family?” Luke gripped his friend's shoulder. “You know my Mama makes the best pancakes.”

“That she does.” Luke could hear Jon's stomach growl. “But I already promised Queen Amelia I'd eat breakfast with them.”

“Oh …” Luke scratched his head. He'd forgotten Jon's crush on Amelia, or Dazzling Queen Amelia as he used to call her when they'd play knights and queens by the river. He'd joked about marrying her, but surely he wasn't thinking seriously now. But maybe he was.

“Why don't you come too?” Jon slapped Luke's back. “It would be like an old family reunion. You and me and Julie and Amelia - everything like it used to be.”

“I wish … but I don't think that is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I told Mama I'd be back for breakfast and promised to check out a plot of land I may possibly buy.”

“That's no problem. We'll just stop by your house and tell your Mama you've had a change of plans and that you'll stop buy that plot of land on the -” Jon's words trailed off. “Wait, why are you buying land?” He leaned forward, a sparkle in his eye. “Is there something you are not telling me?”

Luke's cheeks flamed red and he looked away.

“Come on, don't be a sissy! You're getting married, aren't you?” Jon slapped his back. 

“Congratulations, my friend! Who's the lucky girl?”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Luke held up his hands. “I'm not getting married yet. My parents just want me to prepare.”

“You're still getting married then. Again, congratulations!” Jon was suddenly shaking Luke's hand. Then he grabbed his arm and began to pull him into a dance. At the top of his lungs he began to sing: “Oh the time it comes for every man when he a pretty gal will wed, and then the lads will sing and dance because Oh the time it comes for every man …” Jon stopped when he saw Luke wasn't dancing. “Oh come on, Luke! Have you grown old while I was gone? Lost your feet, maybe?”

Luke shook his head. “Jon … please.” Leaves rustled and a bush trembled. Luke slapped Jon's arm. “Did you see something?”

“No … Did you?” Jon creased his brow.

Luke peered into the shadows. A set of blue eyes met his.

“So you are alive!” He exclaimed more to himself than the boy.

“What?” Jon asked.

“Oh nothing. Must have been my imagination.”

Jon narrowed his eyes. “Well, in that case, what are we waiting for?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Luke smiled to himself and followed Jon back through the trees.