I'm stuck in a bush. Vines entwine my spine, branches claw my hair, thorns scratch my skin, sticks scrap my knees. But in a second I'm out, after something wraps around my wrist and tugs me out. A dragon tail, it was! The dragon sneers at me and licks its lips. "Now I eat you," it roars, grabbing ketchup. "Barbeque time!" Then my sister grabs me before I'm engulfed in flames.
And I wake up.
Okay, let's be honest here; this was just me goofing off. But at the same time I let myself goof off because I wanted this to be like the dream of a little kid, kinda chaotic, kinda laughable, kinda "what?"
***
Kerli is always in a daze. She walks across the air and whenever she jumps she imagines she could touch the earth. She wanders the air, always in her old blue hat, always with her bat flying at her side.
Does she have a house? Does she play with dolls? Maybe. Imagine a house in the sky, spacious enough so she could walk on the air within it. Little creepy dolls would be her toys, hidden in a floating toy chest in her creepy castle.
Kerli walks on air.
This story was rushed and strange, and horribly done, but it was based off of Kerli Kovi's 'Walking on Air'. It's a very strange song.
Did you notice in both of the stories above I accidentally rhymed within a sentence? :P
***
To Robert.
I miss you so much and pray for your quick - and safe - return. Your nephew was born last Tuesday; he's healthy, thank God, and looks just like your brother, Out little Melanie tried to climb a tree yesterday but fell and ripped her skirt. After asking her what happened, she told me the tree tried to eat her. She's got your imagination, that's for sure.
You've been gone for two months, Robert. Your brother has been helping me with the hard work around the house. But I have to tell you something. I'm... with child.
It's your child, Robert, and I just hope your back by its birth. Seven months - I suppose the war will keep you longer than that. But I'll tell our child everything about you in your absence, until you can meet him for yourself.
We're holding up back at home, but everything will be better with your return. Godspeed, my love.
-Charlotte.
Talk about a cheesy farewell! I just decided, if I ever fall in love with a guy who has to leave for an extended period of time, I'm going to send him letters that end with, "Godspeed, my love."
Sorry for that tangent! Anyway, I imagined this story to be about a mother of two (and a half) writing to her husband, who was drafted and forced to join the war. I imagined them Irish, maybe just because I wrote the story in a green pen, but I know that their names aren't Irish. (What's funny, though, is that I read through it I gave her an accent. Or at least as much as an accent as I can give her...)
Well, that's all for now kids! Next up: Violet Hill! A story based off of Coldplay's song, Violet Hill!
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