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?