A dream-inspired story.

Welcome to my very last Flash Fiction Friday! Thanks for taking this adventure with me!

I draw inspiration for my stories from thousands of places, one of these happens to be my own dreams; so for this last story, I thought that I'd share one of my dreams that I thought would make a cute if slightly melancholy story.

I had this dream a few weeks before my 16th birthday party, which was Audrey Hepburn themed, as I love her movies, and I also think that she was a pretty awesome human being, even if I don't agree with every element of her life. So I guess the fact that I had a dream about her shouldn't be that big of a surprise, but for some reason or other, this dream has really stuck with me.

I wouldn't say that this story was written for kids, but I also wouldn't say that kids can't or shouldn't read it, I'm just not sure how many of them would really know who Audrey Hepburn is. This story is a tad bittersweet, but nothing is particularly inappropriate about it, death, and letting go of imaginary friends is discussed lightly, so if you don't think that your kid is ready for that, then keep them away.

I met Audrey Hepburn, although she died seven years before my birth, and I’d like to tell you about it.

I first encountered her cowering and hiding in fear, my family had found her, I took it upon myself to befriend her. It didn’t take me long to learn that she feared she would die if people discovered that she was still alive and that her solitude kept her safe. 

In time I managed to break down that wall, and we became fast friends, although this is far from the norm for me, but it was the eve of my birthday party when everything changed, and that’s what I’d like to tell you about. 

It was an elaborate affair, far more then I would ever wish for myself, yet a scene where she seemed to fit right in, and when she told me that she was going to look for some of her old Hollywood friends, I had no problem believing that she would succeed.

The party continued for perhaps an hour when she came to talk to me; I can’t remember her exact words, but by the faces around her, I could tell that no one else could see her, although they had been before.

She could see this, and when someone actually walked through her she became frightened, I knew what had happened, but I didn’t know how to say it. Her pleading confused eyes begged for an answer so I stumblingly tried to explain,

“I don’t know how to tell you this… You’ve been amazing, exactly like I always imagined, and I guess that should have been a clue…” 

There was no doubt that she now understood what had happened herself, as she smiled with a note of wisdom and replied,

“Then I guess this one last hug will imagine me away.”

Her guess was right as she disappeared, my newfound friend, one of few people who really seemed to understand me. Despite the confusion I should have felt, somehow I understood everything which had just happened; my mind had created a friend for me, one who understood me, and now it was time to let go.

A single tear glittered down my cheek as I said goodbye to my own imaginary friend, and then I awoke with real tears in my eyes, and an oddly light heart. 

Thanks for the read!

And thank you for sticking with me through this adventure!

Be well.

Chasing horizons

Welcome to my 9th Flash Fiction Friday!

This week's story is called Chasing horizons, and it's honestly not aimed at any particular age group, but there's nothing really age limiting about it either.

Chasing horizons.

You know how us cowboys are supposed to ride off into the horizon after we get the bad guy and rescue the lady fair? Well, it’s not quite as easy as it sounds.

The thing that everyone forgets to tell you is that the horizon is simply the line where the sun sets, it’s not really a location. But I didn’t know that when I started out as a horizon chaser… and now it’s far too late for me to stop.

I did the classic midday shootout thing, and I saved the town just like a penny novel hero would so I figured that their happy ending would work just as well for me. 

Maybe I should have been suspicious when I hit the water, but I wasn’t going to let a little thing like that deter me, even though the sun had set hours before. I figured when I reached the horizon I’d be in a land of eternal sunshine… so I bought a ship just large enough for me, rations, and my horse; and off we went.

I've got to tell you, there is nothing so pretty as a sunrise at sea. It looked like the whole world was glowing; and for a moment, I thought that I’d done it. I thought that I had reached the horizon… but then the sun continued to rise, and I was lost at sea.

I followed the sunset to more places then you can dream of. I’ve seen wonders you can’t imagine, tasted foods with more flavor then you knew existed, and seen horrors that I fear I will never forget. But one thing I've never seen is the horizon itself. Sure, we all see it for a short amount of time each day, but even though I sought it for years meeting friends, foes, and even my wife along the way, I never learned where the sun rises and sets, it’s always just out of reach.

Looking back on my life, I guess I was pretty selfish. I wanted to live on the horizon like it somehow belonged to me, and maybe that’s why so many old-timers looked at me cockeyed when I told them about my plans, but in their crooked smiles I knew even then, that a lesson lay ahead of me, though I figured that it lay in my destination; not my journey.

You want to know the pearl of wisdom that I picked up along the way? The golden nugget of truth that no one would share with me? That they insisted I learn for myself?

The horizon belongs to everyone, just like rainbows and flowers. If you live on a mountain, island, or farm, they may look a little different depending on where your from, but they are yours just as much as mine, they’re a beautiful gift from God, and you can’t just live there. You need to wait ‘till He decides to bless you with them.

Thanks for the read!

If you have any ideas for a story that you'd like to see me tackle, please share them below!

Bigfoot.

Week 8 of my Flash Fiction Fridays!

This week I have another in my series of kiddie cryptic stories, this one is about Bigfoot; enjoy!

Bigfoot.

Did you ever play hide-and-seek in the woods? That’s what I do every day!

Hi there! My name is Bigfoot, but I’m really only a little Bigfoot or a Littlefoot. I live in the woods, and I probably even have cousins living somewhere near you!

We live ALL over the place; almost every continent! We like the woods mostly… but a couple of my cousins, called “Yetis” like the snow and mountains. 

But… just like my friend Nessie, a lot of people don’t think that we’re real! We’ve got a game where we try to see which of us can hide the best, but Nessie is winning… there are SOO many of us that it’s hard for all of us to hide all the time.

Some mean people make up bad stories about us; they say that we EAT PEOPLE! Can you believe that?!? Who would want to eat a people? They don’t smell like they’d be good to eat, especially because we eat leaves and fruit most of the time, not other animals!

We just want to play and live with the other animals, we don’t want to hurt you at all! I think that they are just scared of us because peoples are so small, and we’re so much bigger than them.

We see people all the time… ‘Cause we live in the woods, and peoples like the woods, we see you doing strange things like fishing… we have friends that fish too, like bears… but you do it so strangely! Why would you use those great big sticks? Our friends just use their teeth. And what is this “camping” that you do all the time? You have nice warm cabins… why would you want to sleep outside? To see the stars? Then why do you use those “tent” things? You can’t see through those!

I think peoples must be much more shy then us; you spend so much of your time inside cabins and tents! We just hide behind trees and bushes, you hide in big wooden cabins and tents. But other times you seem so brave… you sit next to fires on purpose! How do you not singe your fur?

I guess I’ll never understand peoples… But I still like you!

Thanks for the read!
If you have any ideas for a story that you'd like to see me tackle, please share it below!

Dainty Dragons

Week 7 of my Flash Fiction Friday's!

It's a little odd to break from the mold the week after I set it... but I decided to write another kiddie story this week instead of a grown-up one, 'cause I think they're more fun anyways.

As such I don't feel that they're is any real need for a common sense rating this week; this story was written for kids, but I think that adults would enjoy it as well.

So without any farther ado, here is "Dainty Dragons."

I feel left out… everyone talks about the great big dragons who live in towers, but no one talks about the little dragons like me. 

I’m a dainty dragon, and I’m only 600 years old, just a kid. I’m only an inch and a half long, but if I grow up to be a REALLY big dragon like my daddy I might be 4 whole inches!

We breathe fire too, but we don’t roast knights or hurt people, we usually only light the candles on birthday cakes, and roast marshmallows with our firey breath.

We live all over the place, but we’re so small that most people look right past us, ‘cause they think that we’re just little birds; sometimes they even think that the extra little dragons like me are bugs! And I don’t think that’s fair. Smetimes I wish I could blow a little bit of smoke into their noses when they say that, but my parents say that I shouldn’t.

I do want to be a nice dragon, and grow up into a respectable dragon like my parents, (they are in charge of drying wood out for campers after rainstorms) but it’s just so hard when no one knows that I am here!

I wish that people knew I wasn’t just a “dragonfly”... but a real flying dragon right in front of them! But my green shimmering scales and my super long tail confuses people when they aren’t super close. 

Once in a while, I’ve met a few people-kids who could see me, and who knew what I was! They always get excited and ask me to blow fire for them… but then I get so excited that I can barely even summon an ember for them.

But most of the time when they try to tell their parents about me, their parents say that I’m not real. Once or twice, when I was still an extra young dragon, (only 200 years old) I bit them, but they just complained about “those darn mosquitoes” and left. But some parents know that I’m real… they are the extra nice, extra fun ones. They help look for me, but my mommy says that I should hide from adults so that they won’t find me. Because if they did, they would just get picked on by the other grown-up people. 

I've got to go now, so that I can practice breathing fire, and lighting candles... I hope that I will be able to breathe big fires for birthday candles soon… did you have your birthday already this year? Maybe I can light your next candle for you!

Thanks for the read!

If you have any ideas for a story that you would like to see me tackle please share them below!

Nessie

Whoa, week 6 of Flash Fiction Fridays already? That's amazing!

In case you haven't caught on yet, I'm working on alternating between children's stories, and grown-up stories every week... and we're back to kids stories this week! But that doesn't mean that grown-ups won't enjoy this story, any more than it means that kids won't like my grown-up stories. It's just a style of writing thing. 

A quick reminder; these stories are likely to vary greatly, so if you have younger readers with you, you may want to screen the posts before sharing. I won't write anything kinky, I'm really not that type... But I may write slightly intense stories from time to time, or I may simply have some content that you don't want to get into with your kids right now... I will try to include a "common sense rating" for my stories every week though.

As I said above, this book was written for children, and as such it's basically clean. I even geared this one towards a slightly younger audience, anyone 3 and up are likely to be fine with this one.

This week's story is simply called Nessie.

Hi there, I’m Nessie. Some people call me the Loch Ness Monster, but I don’t think I’m a monster… do you?

I’m a Plesiosaur… a kind of dinosaur who has long limbs, and a super long neck, kind of like an underwater giraffe. My home is in Loch Ness, a huge lake in the Scottish Highlands, and up on the shores, there are the ruins of a castle! How cool is that? 

The only thing is, I’m a little shy… I know that I’m SUPER big compared to you guys, and I don’t want to scare anyone! And… sometimes when people saw me before, they yelled and I got scared, so I hide most of the time now.

Some people think I don’t exist, or even that I died! But that’s not true, I’m as real as Bigfoot. 

I talk to the fish, so I know when it’s safe to come to the surface… I guess I’m a little naughty… because every once in a while, I come up when I know people are around, but I make sure that they don’t have a camera first so that I can look at them and tease them a little. 

I’ve heard lots of strange stories about humans… but I don’t really believe them; after all who would want to spend all of their time inside a building? Or even WORK all day instead of playing?

I guess you’re wondering why I wanted to talk to you, especially when I said that I’m so shy. Well I like my home in the Loch well enough, and all of my fishy friends… but sometimes I get lonely… Fish don’t tell the best stories… And I was wondering if you’d like to be my friend? I might not fit in your bathtub too well… but maybe we could be pen pals?... Oh wait, your letters wouldn’t last very long down here…

I heard that you are all stuck in your houses right now, so I’ve been spending a lot of time at the surface, it was fun to start with, but now I want someone else to play with too.

Unless… you are scared of me too… sometimes people are scary to me… but I’m sure that you are very nice, and that you wouldn’t be scared of such a little monster like me, would you?

I know that you live a long way away… but maybe you’ve read a book about me before… or watched a movie about me? And maybe… if we imagine really hard, we can play together in our minds! 

I know that it’s not very fun to be away from your friends; after all, I’m the only Nessie there is! My mom is a full-grown monster, not a little one like me, but it’s a lot of fun to imagine. And I even heard that you can talk to your friends on the computer. I don’t have one, or else I would talk to some of my cousins… I tried to use one once, but they don’t work too well when they’re wet… and my flippers are too big to push the buttons anyways… but maybe I could make friends with the sheep, and they could run the computer for me… although I don’t know how well their hooves could press the buttons either. 

Anyways I hope that you can play outside again sometime soon so that I can go back to playing hide and seek with the people over here. And that you can tell everyone that I’m real! 

Bye-bye!

Thanks for the read!

If you have any ideas for a story that you'd like to see me tackle, please share it below!

Unicorn island

Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday number 5!

A quick reminder; these stories are likely to vary greatly, so if you have younger readers with you, you may want to screen the posts before sharing. I won't write anything kinky, I'm really not that type... But I may write slightly insense stories from time to time, or I may simply have some content that you don't want to get into with your kids right now... I will try to include a "common sense rating" for my stories every week though.

This week's story is pretty innocent, although there is a little bit of "human darkness" along the lines of animal abuse/borderline slavery as (Spoiler alert) the unicorns are sentient, although there is nothing graphic. I would honestly say that any kid older then 8 should be fine reading it, but as always, pre-read it if you are unsure. 

Whoever said that unicorns aren’t real? They are completely real, they’re just a bit shy… and dangerous.

If you have ever read a book or watched a movie which included a medieval battle scene, you know about warhorses; large, muscular horses clad in some sort of protective gear, who carry the knights into battle. Well, unicorns are kind of the original warhorses, complete with a freaking spear of a horn on their heads, and the swirling pattern in it, assures that the wounds they leave behind can’t be easily stitched.

How did I get to such a be a self-appointed expert on unicorns? Well… I discovered them a year or so ago. Why didn’t you hear about this earth-shaking discovery? I never told anyone; they are far too precious, and dangerous for the rest of the world to know about.

I was exploring the wilderness on a tiny South American island, hoping to catalog a few new plant, insect or bird species, as well as find some peace and quiet. I was a biologist, although I dabbled in botany, and I loved to explore lesser-known locations, from the inside of dormant volcanos to the depths of rainforests. There’s nothing basically wrong with a lab, but there is also nothing like walking among creatures who have never learned to fear humans, and plants which have never even been photographed.    

I had just taken in the lay of the land; from the toe-roasting sand of the beaches to the craggy cliffsides, and the thick humid rainforest. I had already taken maybe 50 photos of critters and plants that I hadn’t recognized offhand, and I was ready for lunch. 

I had no interest in eating in the middle of the forest, and with as small as the island was, I decided to head towards the cliffsides; I knew from experience that there was nothing like eating a packed lunch with your feet dangling over the ocean. I had been walking through the center of the forest for maybe 15 minutes when I stumbled upon a small, picturesque clearing.

If you’ve ever been in the middle of the countryside and stumbled across an abandoned plot of land where flowers have taken the place of crops, then you may almost be able to imagine the mystical beauty of that clearing. I sat on a fallen log, covered with soft spongy moss; the scene around me was such that I would have hardly been surprised if a handful of pixies had been picnicking under the blanket of flowers, but I still couldn’t have predicted what happened next.

I saw 5 horselike shapes galloping into view. I thought that they were wild ponies at first, but once they had galloped to within 10 feet of me, there was no denying what they were, even if common sense itself was telling me that unicorns were a myth, I couldn’t ignore or deny the beautiful creatures which stood playing in the long grass before me.    

They weren’t all white, like the unicorns I had seen in books as a child, but instead, they looked like appaloosa horses, dappled and slender, with ivory-like horns growing half-way between their ears. I sat in awe for a few minutes, before remembering that I had a sliced apple in my lunch… and the unicorns looked enough like horses and were standing near enough that I hoped they would be willing to eat a slice or two from my hand.

I held out a small slice, hoping that I would be able to stroke their silky-looking mane, when, to my surprise, I began to hear voices; not aloud but in my head.

“A human!”

“I’ve even never seen one before.” 

“What is she doing here?” 

“How did she get here?” 

“Why don’t you answer them?” 

This voice took me by surprise, as it appeared to be directed at me. I had been focused on the unicorn nearest to me, but when I raised my gaze, I could see that the oldest of them, with a silvery mane, and wise looking eyes, was looking straight at me. 

“Me? I…” I was suddenly struck by the fact that I was speaking to a unicorn, in the middle of a clearing which had never even been found before. “I must have cracked… I smashed my head… or I got bit by a snake… and I’m hallucinating this.” 

“No, you aren’t. Now answer their questions.” The voice was kind enough, but it was also rather abrupt, and whether this was a hallucination, or not, I didn’t want to mess with anyone who had a voice like that, so I answered her.

“I… I’m here taking photos of the plants and animals that we don’t know about where I’m from.” 

“Why?”

“So that we can learn about them.” 

She seemed satisfied by this, and they had, what I could only assume was a conference, but this time, they communicated through typical horse noises, mostly neighing, with the occasional nicker. After a few minutes passed this way, they told me that I needed to leave, when I refused to do so without an explanation they told me about their storied history.

“Once we lived with humans, hand in hoof so to speak. We would gallop with them, both in everyday life and on the battlefields, but in time this changed. We began to gain a reputation as symbols of good luck, as we could communicate with our riders, and serve them better wherever we went, but this made us a valuable commodity. People would trade, or sell us for high prices, but we had never been possesions… we would only stay with men or women who treated us as friends. No one had ever thought to take a whip to a unicorn… until we began to run away from poor homes, and then this became a regular sight. We were kept in chains, never allowed to leave lest we took our luck away from their households. We decided to leave the humans, and come back here, where we were originally from… but they wouldn’t let us leave us so easily, and we couldn’t exactly run a boat by ourselves. It took what I can only call an uprising for us to escape and many unicorns, and humans alike died… we didn’t wish to harm them, but we couldn’t stay with them any longer, and they wouldn’t let us leave.”

“How did you escape then?” I asked, rendered almost breathless by the tale they were unraveling for me.        

“Not all humans are evil… I guess that you know that… and a handful of kind individuals took us home, and stayed with us here… but they died long ago, and no one had seen us since… until you, that is.”

I felt my breath catch in my throat. Their story had been so intriguing, and tragic, that I had temporarily forgotten that I was a human… an interloper in their affairs and I knew that they were now waiting to see how I would react to this fact.

“I… I won’t reveal your secret.” The words came difficultly, as this was the exact opposite of my job, but I knew that they would never be able to allow me to share the news of their existence, and besides that, I couldn’t betray them, after hearing about how they had already been betrayed in the past. “But how did you know that you could trust me with your story?”

“We can hear your thoughts remember?”

“It’s almost impossible to hide your true being from someone who can hear your every thought.”

“We knew that you were a good person, but we also knew that you would never leave us alone until you had heard our story.”

“Honestly, we took a bit of a gamble, as we already knew that you were a good person.”

“... Thank you.” 

I returned home, claiming that there was nothing of interest, and far too many venomous creatures and ankle-twisting drops in the forest floor to justify a trip there. I hope to return soon, but I need to figure out a way to get there that won’t attract any attention first and figure out a way to convince myself to leave after a few weeks, rather than giving in to a thousand childhood fantasies and moving there permanently. 

Thanks for the read!

If you've got a story idea which you would like me to tackle, please share it below!

Nice Mice

Welcome to week 4 of my Flash Fiction Fridays!

This week I decided to revisit another of my first stories, tweaking it a bit, but mostly letting it shine for itself... This was a school assignment as well as a fun project, and it's the first time I ever combined my love of history with my love of writing. I would even stretch to saying that this book is part of what brought me where I am now in regards to my writing.

A quick reminder; these stories are likely to vary greatly, so if you have younger readers with you, you may want to screen the posts before sharing. I won't write anything kinky, I'm really not that type... But I may write slightly insense stories from time to time, or I may simply have some content that you don't want to get into with your kids right now... I will try to include a "common sense rating" for my stories every week though.

This story was written by me when I was a child and is meant for children; though there is an intense moment or two, you should be fine reading this to almost any age of kid.

This week's story is called Nice Mice and is about Amelia Earhart.

“Hello, I’m Squeaky the mouse and this is my story.”

“Hey!” Oh yes, and Fuzzy’s as well.

“Mrow, Mrow!”

“Okay, okay, I’m here!” It was about 7:30 and my friend Fuzzy the barn cat had come over for a visit, just like he did every night. At that time I lived in a hole in Amelia Earhart and her husband, George Putnam’s house, in a hole in their bedroom wall. 

“How are you doing Fuzzy?” I asked.

“Fine. How about you Squeaky?” 

“I’m okay... but Amelia hasn’t been spilling a lot lately.” 

Oh, I’m sorry… You see I had chewed a small hole in her dining room table; this was for little bits of cheese or bread that she spilled. And I kept a thimble under one of the dripping pipes under her bathroom sink for water.

“Mrs. Cow won’t let me have as much milk anymore either.” Fuzzy replied with a sigh. 

“Oh well, I guess neither of us is getting as much food as normal, lately,” I commented.

Fuzzy’s huge brown ear twitched as a fly buzzed by his long whiskers. 

“Can we go to the barn yet?” I asked impatiently. I was going to see his barn for the first time!

Fuzzy nodded, humoredly, and we set off. I squeezed underneath the door as Fuzzy leaped out of the window which he had entered from. I then climbed on his back, so that we could reach the barn before the sun rose. After a short walk through a field of cows, we were almost there.

We almost ran into a large chicken coop full of noisy chickens. But Fuzzy leaped over the top of it, as I screamed in terror; I wasn’t used to being that high in the air!

Then we were at the barn. The red and purple barn seemed gigantic to a little mouse like me, and there was hay everywhere. It smelled good and sweet, and it made me feel sleepy.

“Hello Mrs. Cow,” Fuzzy commented to a tired, kind-looking brown cow, who was staring at a mountain of hay, with a goat standing on top of it.

“Hello Fuzzy. What do you think the goat is doing up there?” Mrs. Cow asked with a large, hay-scented yawn. 

“I think it’s a mountain goat!” Fuzzy replied eagerly, before adding, in a calmer tone, “Mrs. Cow, this is my friend, Squeaky the mouse. And Squeaky this is Mrs. Cow. She gives me all of my milk.”

Mrs. Cow bent her long neck down to look at me with one of her gigantic sleepy eyes, and commented, 

“Hello Squeaky, what do YOU think the goat is doing up there?” I thought for a moment before replying,

“I don’t know, but why are you so sleepy?” 

“Every time I’m about to go to sleep, this goat bleats at me.” Mrs. Cow replied, in a tired, slightly annoyed tone.

After a short, but fun visit I said good-bye to Mrs. Cow, and Fuzzy brought me back home. 

When I got home, Amelia was sitting at her desk, noisily making another dress. 

You see, Amelia was BOTH a dressmaker AND a pilot!

I said good night to Fuzzy and headed to bed and tried to fall asleep through all the racket she was making with her big cast iron sewing machine.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up to hear her talking about circling the Equator in her plane; the Electra. I listened closely to hear what this “Equator” was and soon learned that it was the funny red dotted line running around the middle of the globe on her desk.  Suddenly I knew just what I had to do. I was going to be the first mouse to fly! I was going with Amelia on her plane to see this giant belt.

I packed up all of the stuff I thought I would need into two little dollhouse suitcases which I had found under the floorboards a long time before. I put my spare cheese and bread and an acorn-cup of water into one of them, and some blankets and my pillow into the other one. 

The next morning before setting off I said my good-byes to Fuzzy and Mrs. Cow. Fuzzy said that he wanted to go with me if it was possible. And I told him that I thought Amelia was bringing a small bag and that maybe he could hide in the back of the plane with her bag and me, and we decided that was as good a plan as we could hope to come up with.

So Fuzzy hopped up into the back of the plane while nobody was looking, just after Amelia had put her bag in, while I held onto his collar. 

We whispered about how soon we would be as high as the birds. And sure enough, very shortly afterward, we were in the air. And I was shaking so hard that I could hear my water sloshing inside my bag. After many hours of staring at the birds, we fell asleep to the rocking of the plane. 

After a couple of months passed in this way, we learned that we couldn’t really SEE the Equator after all. I awoke to hear Amelia talking to her navigator; Fred Noonan about running out of fuel. I shook Fuzzy awake to tell him the news. 

Fuzzy almost exposed our hiding place with his shriek of horror at the mere thought of going down in a whole ocean of water! Fuzzy said that we had to at least try to save the plane. So we looked around to see if there was anything that we could do to help.

I saw a small, red gas can behind the luggage and knew what we had to do. I quickly told Fuzzy my plan- I would remove the top of the gas can, and Fuzzy would open the window, and then he would tip the gas can so that the fuel would spill into the tank.

I started to remove the cap but it was very hard because it was pushed on very, very tightly but I managed to get it off just as the engine started to rumble and the plane began to rock. but Fuzzy had to open the window which was also very hard to do; and even after the window was opened, the hardest part had only just come. 

Fuzzy dangled from the window by his tail as I inched the gas can slowly forwards. I heard a yelp from the window. 

“My tail hurts!” Fuzzy cried out to me.

“I know, hold on just a little longer.” I cried back.

The gas cap is unscrewed. I’m coming back in now.” Fuzzy said, falling with a thump on the floor of the plane. 

“Hurry up Fuzzy! We need to pour the gas into the gas tank!” I screamed as the plane sputtered and shook.

“Okay, okay I’m up here again. You stand in the windowsill and I’ll pour. You tell me left or right okay?” Fuzzy wheezed. 

“Yes! Sure! anything! Just pour!” 

 Luckily Fuzzy’s aim was right on, and soon the gas can was empty. “Okay Amelia, it’s all up to you now,” I whispered to myself. 

Great pilot that she was, she flew us to safety on an island… somewhere. After she had looked over the plane, Amelia said that she could fly us back home… If she had more fuel. 

Luckily the locals were friendly and spoke English, so they sent out a boat for more fuel and after several days on that lovely island, the boat returned with enough fuel for 7 planes. When they asked if they had enough fuel Amelia laughed and said yes, and they laughed together merrily.

We had a rather boring return trip, the highlight of which was when we were almost home and saw one of our friends, who was a sparrow, who had heard that the plane was missing and was ecstatic to see that we were alright. 

When we got home, Amelia settled down at home with her husband, and made WAY more dresses, and piloted WAY less. She even went by the name Samantha Green most of the time when she was in public because she didn’t want to be constantly pestered for interviews by people wondering when she would try to circle the planet again. 

You see she wasn’t normally timid or easily scared off, but this experience had put her off of piloting quite a bit, she DID have many more adventures but most of them were on the ground. I even went with her on some of those other adventures, (many of which took place on horseback as she was an experienced horseback rider.) 

And as you can see that I’m telling you this story, so I lived happilyish ever after.

“Wow grandpa, tell us again!”

“Yeah, grandpa!” 

“No, no, no my little mouselings you have to sleep now. Good night.” I chuckled to my favorite little mice.

“Aww. Okay, good night grandpa!”

The end.

Thanks for reading!

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