I was putting tags on old posts…

When I realized I never fulfilled my promise. So here goes.

It was a mystery about the murder of a princess whose name might have been Juanita. The main suspect was the maid who might have been Caroline, and there was also a cat, maybe Almond. Her name slips my mind, but it turns out the killer was the victim's older sister, for no reason I can remember. I was taking to long to write it and I chickened out by deciding it wasn't very good. Sorry.

Throwing things away

I clutched the small piece of paper closely to my chest, running hard and fast away from the group of people. I slowed down just enough to look back a time or two. They were giving me strange looks, and i trembled and picked up my pace. I slowed again a little later, this time to a stop: I had reached where i was going.

I took a deep breath - and entered. Walk slowly, i told myself. Be respectful. My feet were unusually quiet upon the floor, as i was walking toe-heel, toe-heel, always bringing the latter down carefully.

I stopped, just two feet away from the Heirloom Box. It was a lovely thing, all dark subtle green, like the color of a dark pine, just ready for you to decorate for Christmas, full of promise and mystique. There was a black plastic bag inside, to protect the Box itself, and to package up the heirlooms to make room for more. The bag was also a thing of beauty; both Box and bag were made of the finest plastic, picked from the rare and hushed-up plastic trees way up in the Himalayas. A special group of monks, snipers, and upholsterers went to pick and choose the very finest for Heirloom Boxes and bags, and also to nourish and prune all the plastic trees and saplings, in hopes that someday there will be more.

I gazed lovingly at the Heirloom Box, but i was still thinking of the group of people back in the hall, and it would be terrible to approach the Box with angry or frightened thoughts.

Involuntarily, i remembered what had happened…

We (the youth group) were putting Christmas cookie platters together for the bake sale, and we had just finished. I was taking one last plate in to the room where two people were putting plastic wrap (made of cheap, discount synthetic plastic) on them, and when i came back, everybody else was gathered in a sort of group, laughing. I wedged my way in to see what was up, and there it was: the paper. The poor little thing was frightened beyond its wits, and was fluttering at every movement of the plastic-gloved (also cheap plastic) people. At a quarter the size of most papers, the paper was already too tiny to be out on its own, not to mention crumpled up to be made smaller. When i was still for a moment, i saw the holes in one shoulder where it had been stapled to its fellows.

Quicker than i would have thought i could, before i could think at all, i crouched down and scooped it up. It struggled feebly for a moment, but it was only paper, and i held it carefully so as not to spook it further, if possible. Then i ran.

And now here i was. My heart was steady now. I was calm.

I almost took a step right then. When i look back at it, i still shiver a little. How could i have not thought? I forget things sometimes, but this is the most important, memorized from the first. I sat for a moment and pulled off my shoes, then my socks. A small clod of dirt fell from the crevices of my shoe's sole, and after a moment's thought, i collected that along with the paper. It, too, was an heirloom.

Then i stepped. One, two, two and a half steps altogether, taking baby steps. I kneeled to the Heirloom Box and pressed my free hand, my left, to its side, asking permission. I kept it there for the count of six Hippopotami, and as it was still there and intact after the last one, i stood once more, hugging the - my - heirlooms one last time. Carefully, though. That dirt clod could break pretty easily.

I took the lid off the Box and took it smoothly to the floor. And gently, ever so gently, i placed the heirlooms in their Box. I could almost hear them getting happier. They were in their place now, and if i wanted i could go visit them at the Heirloomyard. Oh to be an Heirloomgirl, the glamor! Like the Heirloomman in Dilbert. One of the few who appreciates it openly. I hear they have strict tests for Heirloompeople, though. They have to.

I put the lid back on the Heirloom Box and backed away a few feet, back to my shoes and socks, put them back on, and exited silently. My work here was done.

My excerpt

If nobody says anything about the excerpt, i'm going to scream and give up editing the story and nobody will ever see any more of it.

I WON

I won. I won i won i won. Ha. Hahahahahahahha.

An excerpt:

Laudo couldn't sleep sometimes, and he often passed hours by watching people in the streets go by. The third time he found Amala going by at midnight he got up and went outside to meet her.
"Are you okay?" She jumped.

"Yes, yes… i'm looking for Altu, you know, one of those flowers best picked at night." She had no gathering basket.

"Amala, about the King," he started.

"What? I'm fine, you know that."

"But not just the king, about the Prince," he said. Small pause. "Edmund."

One sniff. Two. Then came torrents of tears, soaking his sweater. He let her weep for a while, moving them to a small grove of trees.

When her face was relatively dry, he gently asked, "What happened?"

She thought a moment, then: "You know the Queen was barren for many a year? Her husband came to me in the middle of the night to ask for a child. And Queen Snow-White asked for - what else? - golden-yellow hair that grows fast for her child. Who asks for that? Mostly i get requests for healthy children! And hair. What importance is hair? She could've asked that the child will have good eyesight or an unbloodiable nose or- or- something useful. Growing fast. That just makes it worse! You want to trim it each week? What if she wants short hair? And what are you going to do with all that hair, make a ladder?" Laudo positioned himself to hear a lot more of this. "But ask for hair she did, and being a fool, i tried. Not hard, but i tried. Of course she sent but a single hair, probably from her endless trimmings, as she couldn't stand pulling a fresh one. Do you know how hard it is to make a baby from two hairs? It's pretty hard. With most people I'd've demanded a lock more if they want a child, but the King said this was to be secret, and I thought not of this outcome.

"You know Michael was called away urgently the day after Zel- Ed was born? Well, the third day, Her Vain Self came with the Princess and soldiers. She complained of the lack of hair, as though the baby wasn't absolutely beautiful anyway, and she thought greedily of my Edmund. Oh, Ed," and she cried a few minutes more. "I missed him so, after they were switched. I didn't dare do anyting without Michael, and he never came back. The new baby was nothing like Ed. She cried too much and she didn't have a lovely fluffy head and those eyes- but now, now she's my own dear, i'm afraid i love her more than my true child.

"But what am i saying? She is my true child, i wouldn't give her up for anything, not even… not even Ed. He should be happy where he is. They have fresh food to eat at every meal, and never worn-out shoes, and no one dares point and glare. Oh how i wish," she sighed, and stared into space. After a minute or so Laudo cleared his throat and she continued.

"But i was always afraid the Queen would do something, except the King wouldn't let her, surely. But he let her switch the babies. What was she thinking? The fool. He has magic blood in him, likely he'll be a Warlock. And he looks nothing like either Royal Family with their pale skin. He must feel so out of place. But poor Zel, she has not hair. Of course she doesn't, that's what caused so much of this trouble. Hair! I hate hair." And she grabbed handfuls of her own deep brown locks, as though she would tear it out then and there. Laudo said nothing.

"Why Marizel?" He interrupted her thoughts at last.

"I made it up on the spot. Mari- was from Marik, Ed's middle name, and -zel, well… i didn't want her to lose that enirely." She was silent a moment or two.

"How obvious was it? That Zella's not mine. By blood."

"Not very to those who don't know you. We always suspected something, but we're well brought up about those who don't look like family." Laudo had three boys who looked nothing like him.

The sun started to come up over the horizon.

"I best be off," said Laudo. "The bread needs put in the oven."

"And i had better get back before the Princess Rapunzel wakes."

"The Princess…"

"The Princess."

Piera

ingThe Sad Tale of Piera

Piera was a good girl
A good friend
Piera was pretty
Piera told no lies
Cheated nobody
Piera was sweet as honey
Skinny as a twig
Dimwitted as the acorn shell
That was her hat
Piera had a brown pine needle skirt
With a yellow leaf apron
And twine hair
Under her acorn hat
Piera slept under my bed
Until one night when it stormed
And the roof leaked
And Piera
Poor Piera
Poor good sweet skinny dimwitted Piera
Drowned
As I slept on
She drowned underneath
When I awoke
She was gone
But for her acorn hat

But before you get sad, I'll tell you something: Piera was a twig with pine needles on one end that i found when camping once. I gave her an apron and a hat and some hair and named her Piera.

Hmm… no rhyme, no punctuation. I was feeling lazy, but perhaps it's a type of poetry.

Anniversary of Saranita's BIRTHDAY!!

Yes, that's today. Yippee! She's a whole month old! For pictures, go here. Please.

To other news --
I'm writing a play! Who would like to be in it? (note: i have no idea if it'll ever be acted)
So far i have (in order):
Moi
Em
Muffin
Alex[andra]
Would y'all like to hear about it? Vote - Yes or don't bother voting. If and when i get at least two votes Yes, i'll ramble about it.

Gotta go! Chow! (yes, i know that isn't how you spel that)

The Wolf Who Cried Boy:

... by Margaret A. R.

*please note that my spelcheck does not work*

Once upon a time in a small pack lived a boysterous young wolf named Wolforinos. Wo for short.

One day he decided to cause a little trouble and barked as loud as he could, "Boy! Boy!! Nice, juicy BOY!!!!!!!1" So all the other wolves came running and when they came, there was no boy. Wo got scolded for that.

Two days later, Wo got bored and tried the trick again. "Boy, boy, he's really big!!" Again all the other wolves came, and again there was no boy. Wo was the wolf version of grounded.

About a week later, Wo saw a rabbit and decided it was probably male, so he yelled, "Boy!! He's getting away!!" Yet again the other wolves came and yet again they were disappointed! Nobody talked to Wo for six days, until they heard him again.

"Boy! Boy! He has a stick!! Nice and yummy!!!!!!!!" Of course none of the wolves paid any attention to him until he walked into the midst of them, belly fat from eating the boy all by himself. Boy, was he happy.