The Question Of Two Boys

One morning in early fall, before the leaves had begun to fade, but the breeze was already carrying the scent of autumn majesty, Ernest the gardener was harvesting carrots. He was also reprimanding himself and slapping himself in the face. “Now Ernest, only eat a few.” His failure in this moral necessity alarmed him and he took a bite of onion to rebuke his gluttony. His face at first lightened and then grimaced and he ran over to an apple tree that the apples might remove the onion taste. “This has failed very badly. But what is this? Hullo, it’s Robert. Strange. His face is flushed. Maybe he’s been exercising.”

Robert had reached him by this time and started shaking the apple tree. “What’s this I hear, Ernest? You’ve had apples stolen? I can’t believe it.” (more…)

What’s In A Life?

The room is sterile. The air tastes sterile. My mind feels sterile. We are about to perform our second euthanasia. 

The patient beside me hums quietly to himself under his breath. I tug at each of my cuffs in turn as if shrugging off some weight that’s clinging to me. Behind me, Jennet flips through piles of papers. The mechanical way she jots down notes sounds harsh and grating. Before me, Orison is explaining things to the patient’s son. 

I see the care-laden expression on the son’s face — the anxiety. He really cares for my patient. “I had no idea it was that serious,” he mutters. I look away, only catching a glimpse of Orison’s magazine-cover smile as he explains in friendly soothing tones “just how things are” to the victim of the system we run by. There is an uncomfortable feeling tugging at me like a child wanting me to help him find a ball — a feeling aggravated by the patient’s soft peaceful humming. (more…)

Rapunzel – The Real Story

Once upon a dragon, soaring three hundred feet in the air, there was a frog. The situation was not coincidental and not the result of the frog falling out of mid air onto the dragon’s back. On the contrary, the frog was hitchhiking.

“So maybe it’s time you explain just how a frog got stuck in the desert,” suggested the dragon.

The frog, who was holding onto the dragon’s right wing with three of his feet, raised the fourth and waved it around in circles. “Highly unusual circumstances, Sir Dragon, highly unusual circumstances.”

The dragon snorted. “Try me”

“Well,” said the frog, rubbing his chin with his fourth foot and yelling a little loud to be heard above the breeze, “I was stuck in Rapunzel’s tower.”

The dragon plunged down and landed on a tree. Snatching the frog off his right wing with his left hand, he dangled him right before his terrified eyes. “You were what!” (more…)

The Story Of A Flower


The morning of my birth had been a glorious day. Only just the day before, I had been nothing more than a tiny seed, but now – now I had burst through my prison of clay and emerged into the growing, laughing world. I had mingled my song with the ringing chorus around me. (more…)

Envy’s Knife

Content Advisory: This story contains elements of darkness which may be disturbing to some people.  The subject matter that some people may find disturbing is a sudden death brought about with highly malicious intentions. I highly apologize if you are turned off by this story, and let me assure you that I had no intention of delivering a dark message, but I only wanted to show real people going through tough situations. If, however, you feel up to the reading, I sincerely hope and trust you will appreciate the tale.

In the garden of Doctor Cook leaned Ernest the gardener. He was propped against the trunk of an ancient chestnut in deep contemplation. His wizened features were directed to a patch of potatoes directly outside of the chestnut’s canopy. Occupying one half of his mind was the active debate between two prophets, each with an opinion about those potatoes. One told of prospects hopeful, the other, of prospects less to be desired. Ernest would have liked to have given his full attention to the cares of his garden, but the other half his mind was stollen by distant cries from within the house of his employer, Doctor Cook. Perhaps if they had known what calamity their distracting voices might have had on the potato harvest, they would have calmed their tongues. They did not know however, and their shouting continued. The cries were of bitter argument.

The Prodigal Banker

I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight. I told myself it was the alcohol. It was’t actually safe for me to be driving. What was I doing anyway? My home wasn’t any less lonely than the hotel. Something was wrong with me tonight. Why was I even driving through this neighborhood? I knew it would only bring me pain.

I took a left. “Why?” I asked. “Why am I doing this to myself? I have a new life now, a successful life.” Still I kept coming nearer. (more…)

A Tale From The Next Door Woods

The smell was too fragrant to resist any longer. I reached over and slid the dove off the crude spit I had constructed. As I surveyed my other culinary options, the muskrat caught my eye. In truth, there is nothing to be desired in its taste, but the fact that my companion was able to slay so large and antagonistic a beast prompted me to dish up seconds. This I placed on the piece of birch bark that served as my plate. (more…)