Short Stories

Once upon a time there was a boy. A boy who did not yet know who he would grow up to be. One peculiar Halloween, he was lured by the moonlit night to a house he had never seen. It was as dreary as his eyes As crooked as his teeth And just as uninviting as his fears Before he knew it One foot after the other The house got closer As did the poor boy's fate Who did not anticipate What the night would await. The door's creak announced The most peculiar of Beings At first much like a nightmare Rushing through him the impulse of fleeing. A scare was all that it was And shortly after there he stood Unsure but eager to embrace The boy finally in his rightful place. Like a flower destined to wither The Being looked as if through a mirror Recognizing who he once had been He widened his eyes and started to grin. Then and there the boy could see How he was supposed to be He put on a big yellow smile And dared not flinch all the while. Captivated by a beacon of light The boy now sat across a fireplace Perhaps comforted by it's flaming warmth Yet different felt his gaze. "Let me tell you a story before bed" At once the raspy peculiar voice said. With a book now in his pale cold hands

The boy wondered what were the creature's plans. The tale was old but the book was older. It spoke of a strange place that grew colder. Misty Meadows was no strange name As the creature read, more curious the boy became. The tale spoke of a special little town Where days fall into a long night And the dark that was once bright Disguises even the tiniest of folk Hiding from the moon with a heavy cloak. The dense mist set the tone For the midnight's eerie silence alone Warned off the wary townspeople That sought shelter from the winds wheeple Dare you walk amongst the crisp fallen leaves Under the ever-vigilant full moonlight Shadows will follow you like thieves And leave your heart filled with fright. Pumpkins are in every doorstep Like guardians they light the path. Yet one cannot be certain for whom For every so often growls can be heard from the back room. Be prudent of what you hear And might your heart miss a bit Must you not be consumed by fear Or else true darkness you will meet. One might see a helpless lost boy But many were bewitched by his decoy For he will devour anyone's dreams Filling the darkest of nights with deadly screams. Perhaps they'd be better off with dwale For few live to tell the tale Of what there goes In the town of Misty Meadows.

Though oddly small tiny creatures, They prosper in a world of their own. In between dandelions and lady bugs A small tiny grumpy goblin was known. Not a friendly looking fellow that is true Frowning his big watery eyes cold as stone Stomping and plodding through the fields That is how tiny grumpy goblin was known. An oddly small feeling had grown For in his heart he cared for what other's said Though quietly and out of the bright telling sun He was the best friend anyone could ever have.

It was a beautiful day of spring And no one was to be seen Except for the blossomed wild flower fields That painted the landscape gold and green Little Rabbit decided on an adventure To find a special place Where he could sit alone and appreciate The gold and green landscape Little Rabbit wished not to venture far from home Yet the blue birds would sing to him and him alone He could not help but to go along And hum to their beautiful song Without any pause or hesitation Any warning or narration Timid rain drops grew loud and proud Has they shied away from a big grey cloud It was too far and too late Little Rabbit had a decision to make For the adventure had taken a turn He sought somewhere dry and warm Under a dark arched fallen tree Was a colony of ants like he'd never seen before He held dear to his long ears And hoped there was room for one more -“Here! Here!” Cried Mr. Ant trying to get Little Rabbit's ear "Oh my, you are soaked from the storm. Come join us here where is dry and warm.", -"We rely on numbers, you see? To prepare for the winters that'll be. For alone we are slow and frail But the more we are, the merrier the trail!"

-"Yet not as many as you do, I have dear friends too. Whether happy or feeling lame They care for me all the same." Little Rabbit explained to Mr. Ant Afraid of being misunderstood That at times he felt just as content To be quite and alone is what he meant Mr. Ant rushed not to judge He knew all too well the needs To sit alone and not to fudge When ones own company the soul pleads. -"When all feels too overwhelming And my rainy eyes need rest I go to this little secret hiding A creek just bellow the blue bird's nest." A petrichor's scented farewell kiss Set Little Rabbit back on his pursuit For he knew they wouldn't lead him astray He followed the blue birds warbling the way Little Rabbit now walked closer to home To the sound the blue birds made for him and him alone Like reciting a beautiful poem or song A not so far away creek was heard flowing along Little Rabbit had found the secret creek And there he blissfully sat Facing the sun that had nearly set Looking over where the gold and green meet