CWWC #9

May 31, 2016 | Allison

NOTICE: This is the last day to sign up for WordCrafters, guys! *Runs around with flashing lights and sirens* Okay, done with that. XD

Ahem. The. Last. CWWC. Challenge. Often I got pretty stressed out trying to finish my stories in time, but I loved how the prompts inspired me to write creatively. Sometimes I didn’t know how the story was going to turn out! Thank you so much for hosting CWWC, Loren! You did a great job. 😀 (By the way, I put several of my longer stories on a page called, uh…”Stories” up there with the rest of my pages below the header. I put each serial story on its own page so you can read it all at once instead of in little parts.)

Loren, I used the three prompts from this challenge.

I had to kind of rush for this, like usual, but I hope you enjoy it! 😀

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Rose the Runaway

Rose closed the book with a sigh. She scrambled to her feet on top of her bed, and held one arm above her head dramatically. She lifted her voice:

“Oh, that I should live to see thee so, dearest Evelyn. Why dost thou turn from me, thy life-long companion?” Rose shook her head at the thought of what poor Genevieve must have felt when she spoke that heart-rending passage. How could Evelyn have turned away from Genevieve? Especially when Genevieve had all of the qualities one could desire in a book heroine. She was brave, kind, and especially beautiful.

Rose wistfully recited another passage from the book: “Genevieve’s slender throat was milk-white, vying with the chain of pearls around it in purity and beauty. Her dreamy, violet eyes, so large and round, looked on everyone with gentleness. Her full, red lips spoke naught but love, and her slender, soft white fingers were filled with tenderness at every touch.”

Rose heaved another sigh from the depths of her nine-year-old soul. She gazed at herself dolefully in the mirror. No milk-white throat for Rose; hers was definitely brown. No dreamy, large violet eyes for Rose; only small gray slits peeping from under a heavy brow. No full red lips or soft fingers for Rose; her lips were pinched and thin like the rest of her, and her fingers were short and rough. Rose’s cherished dream was to grow up into a beautiful lady, as virtuous and charming as the best of heroines – like Genevieve.

Her second dream was to have a life worthy of a heroine. Rose figured that her life so far couldn’t have been more boring if it had tried. She hadn’t fallen off a cliff, graciously rescued her worst enemy, put out a fire, fallen down a well, or even broken an arm. The most exciting thing in Rose’s life had been when her family had moved across the street. And there was nothing heroic in moving if you didn’t have to change schools or move away from your friends.

But Rose was determined to do at least one exciting thing in life. She was going to run away from home. Once, when she was seven, Rose had tried to run away and promptly raced back to her house after meeting a large, growling dog; but this time Rose shouldered her pack resolutely and trotted off through the night. She had consulted several of her favorite books, finding out just how a heroine should go about running away.

“Our heroine, Rose, makes her escape,” Rose murmured into the night. “She sets off bravely, with only a few supplies in her knapsack. Will she be strong enough to survive?”

Rose tramped across two fields, crossed an empty highway, and headed up a hill.

“She has made it this far; our heroine will not give up now,” Rose spluttered between huffs and puffs. “Her legs ache with the strain as she climbs up the steep mountain. She shields her eyes and squints at the glaring snow topping the mountain. She gasps as her worn shoes hit the frozen powder. Can she make it?” It was the middle of summer, and Rose wouldn’t climb a mountain for her life, but that didn’t stop her imagination from embellishing her escape.

“Now the courageous Rose has reached the mountain top. She stands wearily atop it, taking in the view with her big, violet eyes.” Rose was getting tired now, but she quickly brightened up as her imagination concocted a picture in her mind. There was a picture of her in the newspaper. MISSING, it was captioned. Girl, nine years old. Light brown hair. Please call if you have any information of her whereabouts. Her father and mother knocked on every neighbor’s door, but always with the answer, “Sorry, I can’t help you.” This was something like it! Now she was really living like a story character.

By the time Rose crossed two more hills, she was exhausted. “Our heroine will just take a short rest before going on…” Rose yawned and cast her eyes about for a correct, bookish place to sleep for the night. There was now stack of hay, old barn, or abandoned house, but Rose decided a willow tree would do for shelter. She slipped off her knapsack and used it as a pillow.

“This is the life,” she murmured with contentment. Soon, however, Rose was not very content. The ground and a knapsack couldn’t hold a candle to her own bed at home. Every time she rolled over, she felt a new rock poke into her side. After an hour, Rose raised tragic eyes to the sky, and moaned.

She had to face the facts: she would never make a good runaway, not when she couldn’t sleep on soft grass for the night. Rose’s shoulders drooped as she picked up her knapsack and started for home. But though her eyes were downcast and she tried to look properly mournful, Rose was secretly glad she hadn’t made out to be a good runaway. Who would want to live on wild nuts and berries when you could have pancakes for breakfast any day?

Rose crossed a hill, then another, and another. And another. And another. Rose didn’t remember that there had been so many hills when she had crossed them the first time. Suddenly she stepped out into a clearing with a white farmhouse and a barn sitting in the moonlight. Rose was certain she hadn’t passed that spot before. A large lump rose in her throat.

She was lost.

At first Rose felt a thrill run through her. She couldn’t have planned it better herself. What was more romantic and story like than to run away from home and get lost? But after a few moments, she wasn’t so thrilled. She remembered that even though her life might be boring, it was wonderful. She loved her parents and her brother and sister, and she loved playing in her backyard with friends. She loved everything about her life, she realized, except that it was boring. What did boring matter now? All Rose wanted was to flop onto her bed and fall asleep, waking up to the smell of pancakes in the morning.

Rose shuddered, and felt tears burning in her eyes. She tramped slowly past the farmhouse and kept on going, who knows where. After a half hour of walking, she began to see some familiar landmarks. Soon Rose was racing down the lane that led to her house. Oh thank you, God, she prayed gratefully. Her father was walking up and down the road, shouting her name. Rose flew into his arms, knapsack and all.

“Oh Daddy! I’m so sorry! I won’t ever run away again! I don’t care if my life is boring. I love you, and Mommy, and Brent and Julia.” Rose broke off into sobs and let her father pat her back.

“It’s okay, Rose. It will be alright, my beautiful girl.”

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Rose woke to the smell of sizzling pancakes. What a strange dream, she thought, and curled back in bed with her book.

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See ya’!

***Allison***

Birthday Hike

May 29, 2016May 29, 2016 | Allison

Hey guys! I took gobs of pictures on the hike I went on for my birthday. Lots. Of. Pictures. I’m going to be showing you only some, but still a ginormous amount. 😀 Are you ready for this? Okay. Blastoff in 3… 2… 1… 1/2… 1/4… 1/187,990… okay, okay. XD Now!

When we went on the first trail, it was really foggy and rainy. We decided to come back to it later when it was sunny, but I got some neat pictures before we left.

hike (2) (1024x768) — Ooh, spooky. Just kidding! 😀

Doesn’t the next one seem sort of like a writing prompt? (I edited it.)

Next we went on a hike that was lovely and beautiful on the way down, but exhausting on the way up.

Flower pictures. 🙂

I love this dewdrop picture:

I have no idea what these weird corncobby fungi things are, but they’re neat looking!

One tree had all kinds of different fungi on it.

Millipede!

The next trail was really rocky and mossy. I love rocks and moss! 😀

hike (53) (1024x768) — This looks like an action shot even though it isn’t.

Sometimes you had to climb over boulders like this:

I made collages of the many pictures of moss and fungus I took, because otherwise you would be here all day. XD

Aren’t they so pretty? (And sometimes weird?)

Views from an overlook beside the path:

I really like the rocky ones.

At the top it was kind of scary because there were drop-offs on every side of you, and the path was really narrow. You had to climb over boulders that were less than two feet away from the edge to get to the top! *Shiver* 😛 But the view was amazing!

On the way down we made a little fairy house, or rather fairy bedroom.

My friend spotted these perfect, tiny spiderwebs. She got way better pictures than me. 😉

Are you photo-weary yet? XD Did you have a favorite picture?

***Allison***

CWWC #8: Beyond the Looking Glass Finale!

May 28, 2016 | Allison

This is it, guys! I’ve been writing “Beyond the Looking Glass” for every CWWC challenge so far, and this is the last part! I already have an idea for the next CWWC. 🙂

Loren, I used all three prompts from this challenge, plus the one about Ferrymen guarding mirrors. So four prompts. 😉

Remember, this is what happened last:

“It’s known to have many nasty side-effects…” One of which, apparently, is invisibility.

Enjoy!

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Beyond the Looking Glass, Part 8

An invisible Mother is hard to get used to. At each meal the conversation inevitably turns to Mother, and to two questions in particular: Will the invisibility ever wear off? Can we find some sort of cure?

One night we all agree that we will travel to the Ferrymen’s land together. My heart thumps like a wild thing inside my chest as we stand in front of the mirror in Mother and Father’s bedroom. Once again I gaze far down into the depths of my dark eyes reflected in the mirror, pulling with all my might, willing the land to reappear. Yes! I wrap my whole mind around the tiny scene buried deep inside my eyes, reaching for it until the mirror once again shows me a living picture of the land beyond the looking glass. Father, Mother, and I all plunge forward together into the mirror. We land on the other side, in the Ferrymen’s world, surrounded by shattered glass. This time there are three Ferrymen to meet us.

I explain our problem to them. They listen attentively, then huddle into a group and talk together in a strange clicking language. Finally the group breaks up and the first Ferryman approaches me. He signals us to follow him, and he flies over to a small mirror hidden away in a hollow tree. Father, Mother and I join hands once again. We have no idea where the mirror will lead us, but we trust the Ferryman.

We crash through the mirror successfully, and pick ourselves off the ground. We’re standing in a forest. In front of us is a small, round hut, with smoke curling out the chimney. I love it at once – the rounded door, the circular windows, the flowering vines creeping up the stone walls. We knock on the door and a small, bent old man with a thousand wrinkles in his face invites us in. His hair is snow-white and his eyes are ocean-blue. His brown, creased face reminds me of a molasses crinkle cookie.

“Come in, come in, and welcome. What can I help you with? The Ferrymen sent you, I presume?”

I am surprised that he knows but I nod, and explain our problem once again.

“Ah yes, my dear. You have come to the right man. Old Vandaff can get you straightened out.” He leads us into his house, and immediately my eyes are drawn to a wall filled with shelves. On those shelves stand rows and rows of the most beautiful bottles I have ever seen. They are filled with swirls and layers of delightful colors – lavenders, mints, yellows, and teals. The old man hobbles over to the shelves. “Pretty little things, ain’t they?” he asks with a grin. “There should be one here for invisibility…” he rubs his finger over the rows, whispering their names under his breath. “Starweed, lavender mist, nightflower… aha! Here it is: glitteroot. What a lovely plant. Have you seen glitteroot, my girl?” he asks me.

“I haven’t, sir, but it sounds beautiful.”

“Oh it is,” he exclaims. “And when it works its healing, it is more beautiful still. I will show you some glitteroot growing in the forest later. All of my cures are natural and forest-grown,” the old man says proudly. He carefully lifts the bottle from the shelf, pours a little of its purple-clouded contents into a measuring spoon, and mixes the syrup with a bit of warm water. “Come now, Miss Gray,” he gestures royally with his hands, “it’s time for us to see your pretty face.” He winks at the invisible spot where Mother stands and hands the cup into her invisible grasp.

I still can’t get over how the cup tilts up seemingly in midair when Mother drinks. She finishes the cup and… nothing happens. She’s still as invisible as ever. The old man catches our worried looks, and reassures us, “This is only the first part of the cure. We’ll need the lake to finish off the job. Follow me, please.”

We follow the old man down a narrow path. Along the way he points out some of the plants that were in the bottles, including glitteroot. It is a lovely plant, covered from its emerald leaves to its dark purple flowers with sparkling flakes of what looks like glitter. Finally we arrive at a huge lake. The old man tells Mother to get herself completely wet in the water. As she does, two amazing things happen.

The first thing is that Mother appears. Father and I splash out into the water, laughing and crying with relief. Father swings Mother around, and I hug them both. I stop hugging them when I see the water around Mother. Some sparkling substance is seeping into the water around Mother. It swirls around in the water, spreading gradually throughout the whole lake and spiraling madly up into the air around us. Twinkling stars of glitter dance around us as we stand in open-mouthed awe. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Sparkling stars of light

Dancing to an unknown song,

Singing in a silent voice

Radiant in joyful grace.

Finally the stars fade, and we splash slowly through the water to the old man. He stands there with a look of joy and pride on his face. “I told you it was beautiful. It never gets old,” he shook his head admiringly.

I don’t notice anything beside the path this time. I have eyes only for Mother. How glad I am to see her again! I notice that her eyes are brighter, her smile more sincere, than they had been before the Healing Lily. She is cured at last!

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My parents and I climb the stairs up to the flat roof outside my bedroom window that night. Father had said that’s what we used to do in our old house, when I was little. I had never been out on the roof because the creaking window would have been too loud for Mother before.

We unroll a blanket and lay on it on our backs, staring up at the stars. After a while I crawl to the edge of the roof and look down into the velvety darkness. I take a deep breath. The air seems more fresh up here, and the moon and stars look brighter. I feel free. I feel wonderful. I have my parents back, parents I didn’t even know where living. Life won’t be perfect, but it will be good. With Father and Mother by my side, I know it will be good.

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Ahh, you gotta love happy endings, right? Thank you all so much for your encouragement for this story! It made me happy to read your sweet comments. I’ll probably put this story all together on a page soon.

***Allison***

Art Lab, Episode #6: White on Black

May 27, 2016November 12, 2018 | Allison

Welcome back, my friends! I’ve been having lots of fun with white gel pens and black paper. Do you want to see? Okey-dokey. 😀 But first, here’s the official prompt:

Technique: White gel pen on black paper

Here are four ATCs I made using this technique. (Sorry about the smudges. 😦 That’s one thing you have to be careful of when using gel pens.)

art lab (1) (800x600) — “Glow-in-the-Dark Fish” (It doesn’t really glow in the dark. 😛 )

Isn’t that technique neat? It works especially well with sharp, straight lines. Which is your favorite ATC? Mine is probably the “Moonlit Night” one.

Ta-ta!

***Allison***

Last AAWC/CWWC #7

May 24, 2016May 28, 2016 | Allison

Misty, I used the word prompt, did a plot twist, and included swans in my story. Loren, I used 7 prompts. I don’t have time to add the pictures, but they were the monsters one, the hunting us one, the muddy forest one, the blue butterflies one, the Here Be Faeries one, the dragon-on-a-branch one, and the shattered glass one.

My commentary is going to be brief because I don’t have much time. (As usual for writing posts. XD )

Remember, Adele has just found her father…

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Beyond the Looking Glass, Part 7

“But… how are you alive? I thought you fell down a chasm!”

“I did. But I fell down here and as you can see, I survived to tell the tale!” Father grins. “The trolls were quite hospitable when they found me, and gathered up countless little things to make me comfortable. I took a while to recover from that fall.”

I remember something from Gwendolyn’s history lesson: “A little over a decade ago…the trolls living in Their land found something, we know not what…”

Now I know what they found – Father! Thirteen years ago Father fell into their world.

Father goes on, “Now I know why they were so eager to protect me: they wanted to conquer the world, and I was to help them. Apparently the troll king was not a favorite with his subjects, but they had no choice but to obey him. He commanded them to capture hundreds of Saepertines from the forest…”

“Wait, what are Saepertines?” I interrupt.

Father raises an eyebrow. “Look around you.”

I do, and see with a shudder the ghostly white, spiny monsters, stooped, terrifying. All this time They had miraculously kept back from Father and me.

“Oh,” I whisper, “you mean Them.”

Father nods. “When I saw a Saepertine for the first time, I was terrified, and when the trolls told me I was to be their Master I nearly fainted. But luckily they were as afraid of me as I was of them – they had never seen a human, you see. That was why the troll king needed me for his plan – they would finish off any troll in an instant. Soon I had them trained to despise everyone except for me and the trolls. All these years I have been trapped here longing for a sight of you and your mother.” His eyes light. “How is your mother, anyway?”

I look down at the ground. “She… she isn’t doing very well. She’s nearly deaf, and…”

Father cuts me off with a cry, “My Susan?!”

I nod sadly. “That’s why I’m here.” I tell him how I came here, and about the Healing Lily.

Father looks relieved. “So she won’t be deaf for long, then. But how are you going to get back to our world? I’ve been looking for an escape route for years.”

“The fairies and Ferrymen will help. They can help me with anything.”

Suddenly I’m jolted back to our immediate situation by the appearance of a soldier at the top of the pit. He, too, is paralyzed by fear at the sight of Them. “Father!” I shout, “We have to save the soldiers!” I realize that during the time I was sitting here talking, hundreds of soldiers may have met their death, falling prey to Them like I almost did.

“They are cunning, they are brave,

They are brutal, they are relentless,

And they are hunting us.”

Father face pales, and after giving me a quick hug, he disappears down a tunnel that must lead to other pits. I swallow hard. The monsters surrounding me evidently know that I am a sacred object, not to be touched, but I’m still frightened. I feel like Daniel in the lion’s den.

Father soon returns with a solemn look on his face. “Some soldiers have gone, never to return, but the Saepertines will reap no more harvest.”

I take a deep breath. “So are we ready to find the Healing Lily? Can you sneak out with me without being noticed?”

“Of course! Jonathan Gray can do anything with his daughter at his side.” He winks at me.

Oomph! I stumble over a log and land headfirst in muddy water. Yuck. By the time we reach the top of the mountain, Father and I are both covered in mud from head to toe.

Finding the Healing Lily is definitely not easy. For half an hour Father and I stumble over rocks and peer down crevices. As I turn to climb down a boulder, a faint glow catches my eye. It’s those butterflies again! I see the same glowing blue butterflies as I did when I entered the fairies’ kingdom. They explode in a glowing blue cloud when I approach them, and reveal the Healing Lily at last! According to Gwendolyn’s description, the Healing Lily is a small, cream colored flower with a brilliant purple center and five long, delicate petals. Yep.

“Father! I found it!”

Leaving the fairies was sad on both sides. Gwendolyn was happy that I had found the Healing Lily, but sad to see me go. Before I left, she flew up to me with a serious look on her face.

“I just thought I should tell you, Adele, that your mother may have to pay a price for using the Healing Lily. It’s known to have many nasty side-effects, especially if the person who takes it is really deaf. Sometimes…”

I quickly cut her off. “Thanks for the warning, Gwendolyn. I’m sure we’ll be alright.” I’m in a hurry to get back, so I race over to Father and pull him away from a conversation with the fairy king. “Goodbye, everyone! Thank you all so much!”

I thought over my adventures as I once again passed the sign with “Here be Faeries” painted on it. So much has happened since I saw that sign for the first time! I will remember this journey forever.

In the blink of an eye the forest disappeared and I’m back at the Ferrymen’s world. The swans are still floating serenely on the lake, and the dragon-bird Ferryman is still sitting on the branch of the tree. At our approach, he flaps down and escorts us to a mirror which reflects his whole land. Father and I hold hands and crash through the glass. I open my eyes to shattered glass shards all around me. The Healing Lily is still clutched tightly in my hands.

Father and I slip quietly down the stairs, where I prepare the lily as Gwendolyn instructed. Halfway through the process, Mother appears at the door and stares at us silently. Father beams at her, but she shows no signs of recognition.

I pour the mixture into a glass, and hand it to Mother. She looks confused, but drinks it all down anyway. I wait eagerly for her to say something, for a change to come over her.

It does. The change is beyond my wildest dreams.

My mother has vanished.

Before I can think, I feel a touch on my arm and a broken voice speaks to me.“Adele, my daughter, Jonathan, my husband! Welcome home!”

I gasp. “It’s known to have many nasty side-effects…” One of which, apparently, is invisibility.

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Duh-duh-duh-DUN! What will happen?

***Allison***

Photography Prompt #1

May 22, 2016 | Allison

Hello again, dear readers! 😀 Today I give you a little photography prompt I made up to get your photo-creativity up and running! It’s super simple, but very rewarding and relaxing.

Here are the photos I took using the prompt. I just laid down in the grass and snapped away! It was really fun.

The whole reason I went out there in the first place was to take pictures of this beautiful tiger swallowtail.

Then of course I took pictures of the cute wittle pink flowers,

And a few creepy-crawlies,

-Allison(Casey) 011 (1024x768) — Pill bugs (or roly-polies) look like armadillo bugs up close!

And boring ol’ lawn which is actually interesting.

-Allison(Casey) 018 (1280x960) — I messed with the exposure on my camera to get this really neat evening light look.

Guys, mulch and old walnuts can look interesting too.

And lastly but not leastly… this! XD Yes, you can use your zoom as long as you don’t move your legs. 😀

I used this idea several months ago too. It was winter, and I just sat down in a plain patch of bare field, but I think some of the photos turned out pretty well. Have a look!

This is the boring patch of ground I took pictures on. Blah, right?

Well…

-Allison(cookies, island) 027 (1280x960) — I really like this picture for some reason

-Allison(cookies, island) 026 (1280x960) — Even dirt can look pretty!

Not so boring after all, right? That’s why this is fun. You get to look at all the little details you normally miss. And you don’t have to just take pictures – you could take your sketchbook or just look.

Do you think you’ll use this prompt? Would you like to see more photography prompts?

***Allison***

P. S. I’m working on my birthday stuff post, but it may take me a while because of all the reviews I’m doing!

CWWC #6

May 20, 2016 | Allison

I think you’re going to like this part, guys! It’s getting really exciting because I finally added the plot twist I’ve been planning for a long time. I had a blast writing this, and I hope you’ll have as much fun reading it!

Loren, I used these three prompts:

via

via (For some reason this doesn’t seem to be showing up. 😦 Anyway, it’s the one with the monsters – or Them as it says in the story – walking through the trees.)

via

Remember, the last thing that happened was,

Beware! Things are not as them seem, Adele. Beware the hidden city, for it hides unpleasant surprises. They are the hunters, and you are the hunted. Do not fall into their trap. Signed, The Ferrymen

My heart stops. It IS a trap! And our soldiers are walking right into it!

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I lose no time in hurtling up the mountain, a cloud of bewildered fairies at my heels.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, ADELE?” Gwendolyn shrieks into my ear.

“I’LL TELL YOU ON THE WAY.” I shriek back through the sound of air rushing past me.

When I finally I catch up to the soldiers, I’m so exhausted I can barely walk straight.

“Wait!” I cry between gasps. “It’s a trap! Don’t do it… escape while you can… They will kill you…” I crumple to the ground with exhaustion. I catch my breath, then try again.

“May I have your attention, please!” I shout. Dwarves, centaurs, elves, and fauns all stop their work and look at me in surprise.

“I apologize for stopping you, but I have just received a letter that says that They are hiding in the city on the top of the mountain. It’s a trap! They are the hunters and we are the hunted…” Before I can finish my speech, a golden-haired fairy flies in front of me.

“Wait! Wait. It was me. I… I wrote the letter.” The fairy hangs her head and stares at the ground. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t know why I did it, really it’s just…” she trails off and a tear slips down her cheek. “I guess I just wanted to scare you. I’m so sorry, Miss Adele…” now she falls to the ground and lets the tears fall freely. “Truly I am,” she whispers.

The soldiers are bewildered. Some seem disgusted at the fairy and me for causing a false alarm, and some just look relieved.

I don’t know what to say. I should be angry at this fairy for causing so much trouble, but I’m not. She seems honestly repentant, and somehow… I just wouldn’t have imagined she would do such a thing. Poor girl! I try to give the fairy a comforting hug, but that nearly suffocates her, so I quickly switch to another tactic.

“It’s alright,” I tell her softly. “I forgive you. But please don’t do it again – I was really scared!”

The fairy smiles at me through her tears and nods her head.

When we arrive at the hidden city, everything is quiet and still, just as we left it. I’m beginning to feel ashamed of myself for believing the letter – how would the Ferrymen know about a trap anyway?

The soldiers divide into groups and file into the houses. I watch the lines file past as I listen to Gwendolyn tell a story to a group of fairies. I realize absently that the houses can hold a lot of soldiers. It seems like the lines keep filing in, and the houses never get full! What a blessing it is to have this for a fortress. Gwendolyn’s silvery voice fades to a murmur and my eyelids droop. Suddenly my eyes start open at the sound of someone crying right beside me. It’s the same fairy that wrote the letter – Gwendolyn told me her name is Eliana.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Adele,” Eliana breaks off into sobs again.

I frown and try to stifle a yawn. “I thought we already cleared this up, Eliana. It’s okay, really. I forgive you!”

“No, it’s… it’s not that, (*sniff*) it’s just that I didn’t (*sniff*) write the (*sniff*) letter.”

I sigh in frustration. What is the matter with this girl?

Eliana settles on the ground and tells me what the matter is between sobs and sniffs: “When I was about to fly out of the house we were spying on this afternoon, the… the floor just sort of opened up and some of Them came out. They threatened me and said that if I didn’t help them, they would raid my village.” The fairy wringsher little hands in despair. “So I had to agree. I had to! That’s why I said I wrote the letter – I was afraid They would be angry with me if I didn’t stop the letter from ruining their plan. But I know that wasn’t right now.” Eliana stared at the ground and fluttered her wings slowly back and forth.

Every scrap of sleepiness has fled from me now. “But if the letter isn’t a fake, that means it’s true! And if it’s true, They really did set a trap. And if…” A horrible thought suddenly forces itself into my mind. That’s why so many soldiers can fit in a house! They are trapping each one as he enters! My mind is whirling. “Tell Gwendolyn what you told me, Eliana,” I yell over my shoulder. I snatch up a torch and take off running to the nearest house.

I slow down as I approach it. What am I doing? What am I thinking? I can’t singlehandedly save a bunch of strong soldiers from Them! I twist my dress anxiously and hold the torch a little higher. I can’t see a thing through the windows. I just have to know! I have always been impulsive. Now my heart takes over and leaves my brain behind, then my legs take over and leave my heart behind. Stop this, Adele! You can’t go in there – you’ll be killed! But my legs propel my onwards. It’s like I’m watching a scary movie, but I can’t stop it, I can’t change to another movie, and worst of all, it’s real.

My hands tremble as they turn the doorknob. My feet stumble inside. My eyes close in fear, then open again.

I wish I had kept them closed.

The floor of the house is now a yawning pit, and They are in it – the horrible, ghastly, spindly, white monsters that are the terror of every kingdom far and near. And They’re looking at me. Hungrily.

I am paralyzed. I can’t even scream for help. I blink back tears and when I open my eyes, I’m down in the pit, surrounded by Them and… someone else. I realize there is one other human here with me. Only one. The soldiers have disappeared, but this one man stands unafraid amongst Them. Even in my desperate fear, I am curious.

The man takes one look at me and rushes forward, a strange look on his face. It looks like he either wants to kill me or hug me, I can’t tell which. I hope it’s the latter. I gulp, and look at his strong frame and square jaw and glinting steel gray eyes. His piercing gaze rakes me over from head to foot. He locks me in a stare for a moment and looks into my eyes as if trying to draw out all my secrets. I shiver. This man is getting to me.

“Wh-who are you?” I stammer.

When he hears my voice, the man’s face changes. He looks sad, angry, and deliriously happy at the same time. What a strange, strange person. In the back of my mind, a spark is trying to light itself.

He speaks in a rough, broken, but almost pleading voice. “You know who I am. Don’t you? Oh Adele, how could you not know me?”

I shrink back, startled. How does he know my name?

His hard, steel gray eyes melt until they are as soft as fawn’s gaze. His face fills to overflowing with… something. I have never seen anyone look at me that way, except once, when I was younger, maybe 6 or 7. Mademoiselle – I mean my mother – suddenly scooped me up and cuddled me on her lap. I remember seeing that same expression on her tired, ruddy face. Now I know what it was. Love.

I cry out suddenly. No, it can’t be… it has to be!

“Father? Is… is that you?”

The man’s face glows from some inward beam of light. Now I know for sure. The spark roars into flame in my mind. Somewhere, dimly, I can remember my father smiling at me like that: a brilliant smile overflowing with love.

I rush weeping into his outstretched arms. Father’s tears mingle with mine as he holds me close and strokes my hair. “I love you, Adele,” he whispers.

“Oh, I love you too, Daddy.”

____________________________________________________

*Happy sigh* That was so much fun to write. 🙂

***Allison***

Meet Casey the Kitten

May 19, 2016May 23, 2016 | Allison

*Warning: after reading this post, you may need a kitten. Also be aware that you may get a cuteness overload. 😉 :D*

I have a little someone to show you! I’m pretty certain you’ll like her. Here she is:

SOOOOO CUTE! Yes, we just got a kitten! We decided to name her Casey because it means brave. Why brave? Well for one thing, she is very adventurous and curious. For another thing… well, read this:

We rescued Casey two days ago – she had fallen about 8 feet down a shaft in the wall of our parts shed! She must have been walking around the attic when she slipped and fell down the hole. Our neighbor heard her meowing, so that’s how we found her. My dad was the one who actually rescued her by cutting a hole in a board next to where she was trapped, and now… she lives with us! She is the sweetest little kitten ever. ♥

Even though she was a barn cat before, she is completely tame (almost more so than our grumpy cat Jinx that we have had for years XD ). Sometimes when she’s in a playful mood she’ll wrestle with your arm, pounce on a piece of paper, or tumble around on the floor. When she’s worn out, she loves to cuddle in your lap and go to sleep. It’s ADORABLE! 😀 I think she got hoarse from meowing so much when she was trapped, so now most of the time her meows are silent and it looks like she’s yawning. 😀 Anyway, let’s move on to the pictures! There are gobs of them, so get ready…

Go!

Casey is a good student, but even she tends to take naps in Math class. XD (My sister is practicing her math facts on the iPad.)

We took her outside and Carmen played with her while Megan and I took pictures. 😉 Casey always runs after us if we leave her. SO CUTE! (Click on any image in the collage to enlarge.)

027 (1280x960) — I LOVE THIS PICTURE SO MUCH OH MY GOODNESS IT’S ADORABLE! ♥

019 (1280x960) — Is that a roar or a laugh, Casey?

Casey the mighty stalking tiger cat.

Casey among the flowers.

If you haven’t died of a cuteness overload yet (Jacylnn, Clara, Misty, I’m looking at you. XD ), don’t you agree that CASEY IS THE CUTEST WITTLE THING EVER?! Ahem, I think I’m a bit prejudiced. 😉 BUT SHE IS SO ADORABLE! Right now she’s sitting in my lap.

First rabbits, now kittens. Your cute-o-meter should be filled up for a few days at least. 🙂 I hope you enjoyed this post!

***Allison***

Lily and Friends

May 18, 2016May 18, 2016 | Allison

It’s been a while since my last bunny post, hasn’t it? So do you want to see one? (Hint: the answer is yes. XD )

Let’s start with some ancient pictures. A warm day was perfect for a bunny bath in a wheelbarrow – except that the bunnies don’t like baths. XD Well actually Lily doesn’t mind them too much. She’s well-insulated, I guess. 😀