Time to Travel!!  

Alrighty! So I’m about to go travelling (first stop Paris for a romantic weekend with the boyfriend) and Chaz is moving to Lyon (France) on Monday. For this reason, we might be a little late replying to notes/comments and getting critiques out.

DON’T PANIC!

We’ll be back, you won’t have to miss us for long.

So, congratulations to the winners of PoetryOD’s contest.

Ravenshymn   The Unforgettable Circus    A small town is where we begin our story.  It's not on a map, if you're wondering.  Believe me, I've checked.  Now you may be wondering what's so special about this particular small town and I'll tell you, but before I do, there's something you need to know: not everything is as it's seems.  The story I'm about to tell you is no different.
    In this particular town, like any, there were groups.  In this town's case, the groups were divided in an interesting way: those who would engage in out-of-house activities weekly, and those who did it monthly.  It may not seem like much to an outsider like yourself, but in this little town it was everything.  As a matter of fact, such a thing could make or break a relationship.  Don't believe me; ask one of the citizens, if you can.  It may be difficult at first, but I'm sure that, after you've finished reading, you'll see how one event can change a person foreve

dragoeniex Weaver's WebThere once was a young weaver who worked day and night at his craft. He worked so hard, in fact, that fairy-folk and elves came from surrounding villages to see him. Butterfly-lace shirts, satin vests, and skirts made from the silvered manes of unicorns- he could take any material given him and turn it into sheets of fabric, and then again into delightful garments.
At least, he liked to imagine that he could. You see, this talented, young weaver had an adventurous spirit. He never worked with the same material twice in a row, and never more than four times a month. It was too easy to get lazy that way.
So, each evening, after he'd closed his little shop, the weaver fluttered his wings and flew to the nearby forests and fields. He could lose hours there, gathering hundreds of abandoned spiderwebs and baskets upon baskets of petals and leaves.  
One day, the fairy decided this was not enough. None of it. He was well-known in his part of the kingdom, yes, but royalty had never heard his n

ThornyEnglishRose Flea and Flee‘It should not be this difficult!’ said Mother.  ‘We are witches!’
She always said that, but it always was that difficult, every time.  After all, witches may be witches, but cats are cats so naturally they have the advantage.  Our cat Midnight always knew, no matter what we did, or how many times we tried to hide the flea treatment.  One month it was in the kitchen cupboard with the crisps and cereal and baked beans.  The next month, it was behind a bottle of newts’ eyes.  Once Mother hid it in her sock drawer.  This time, it was in amongst all the mouse tails.
‘Look what you brought us,’ Mother said, fishing around in the tails and making cutesy noises at Midnight, who was blinking up at her with huge, bored, knowing, evil yellow eyes.
‘Clever, clever boy!’ Mother told him.  Then suddenly she said, ‘NOW!’
Now? I thought.  Why should now be any dif

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Here’s some of my favourites for this week:

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Pearls in WintertimeGrandma gave her pearls to the eldest, but you didn't need oysters when you had the world;  when the forest greeted you as family, and your frolics left foot-printed poetry in the dirt.  You were always more interested in giving, anyway, so that even when the twigs tore your hair, you made a blessing of it; passing down some pearls of your own.
a gift to nature
becomes one with the winter;
soon to be melted,
but not forgotten–
nor remembered.

Six Word Story: MusicMusic carries her from this hell Sweet KidBresh's allergic to strawberries.
The last time he ate some he spent two hours squeezing vomit through his swollen gullet, nearly drowning in spit, half-digested food and gastric acid before his father opted to throw him into the car and drive him to the ER. It was a suicide attempt. He knew he would go to hell for this. But Bresh had somehow banked on God not noticing that it wasn't accidental.
Death by strawberry.
He thought that was funny.

All the critiques or constructive comments I’ve done since my last journal! I recommend you give some of these pieces a read, they’re pretty good

:thumb386300086: A Winter of DiscontentI left in the summer, putting words and miles between us, snapping every thread I could find, because I couldn't stay close to you anymore. We were both looking for catharsis, and I could have cauterized your wounds but I couldn't heat my tongue like that. I couldn't channel the summers flame. People tell me I'm cold.
I left in the summer. Came back in December. I'd say the winter but there is no winter here, it refuses to freeze. I expected snow and ice and cold enough to slow the blood in my veins until I couldn't use my hands. None of that was true. It shouldn't be like this. The snow shouldn't melt as soon as it touches ground, the windows shouldn't be free from frost, you shouldn't be at my house. I was told you were better, but you're not. You shouldn't be at my house.
Somewhere deep inside a flame lights and I want to roar, to breath fire. But while stone, my heart is made of gypsum, it might melt if you cry and your eyes are already wet, a film of anguish that I empathiz :thumb386245104:

Closeup of a StarRayne needed a chart to find earth among the points in the sky. The fact made her stomach relax, though the nagging feeling of proximity returned on any of the days the cruise ship stopped to stargaze. The engine quieted for a day and the tourists milled about, watching space. The ring Leanne gave her weighed on Rayne’s chest. It was the only remaining piece of earth she had, and she wondered what it would look like lost in the stars.
“Relax, sweetheart.” Leanne said to her on the second day they stopped. The guide pointed out earth among the stars, any other relevant systems, and the nebulae used by the ship’s very own navigator to keep it on course.
“I am relaxed” she replied.
Leanne looked at her and rolled her eyes. The tiny Stargate nebula winked at them from outside the viewing window, and the guide pointed out a cluster to the rest of the excited tourists.
“What does space look like to you?” Leanne asked as she wrapped her arms aro Caretaker's GardenOn the last day of the world, a bird landed on Caretaker’s tree. It hopped once when it noticed Caretaker observing from below, but did not fly away.
“This tree is mine,” said Caretaker. “You will leave it now.”
The bird did not reply.
“To clarify, you are trespassing and trespassers will be prosecuted to the full extent of my disciplinary programming. This tree is mine. All trees are mine.”
The bird groomed the inner feathers of its wing.
“Your arrogance has been noted and recorded for the benefit of a trial.” There would be no trial. The People were gone. Only he, the garden and the primary directive remained. Error. The ocean also existed.
The bird pecked Caretaker’s tree.
“You have forfeited your right to a trial."
CaretakerX300S raised a silver finger and encased the bird in an air capsule. The bird fluttered around its invisible cage until it ran out of oxygen.
"You are

Door to DoorThe first time he had tried them, he cried, and the tears obscured his vision. He understood that was he was seeing was not the world around him, but something different. It was the world how it may be. The woman at the door had been correct, and through his tears he smiled.
“Hello, my name is Maddie.” she had started, not deterred that she was one of the last remaining door-to-door salespeople in the world, or that she was trying to sell her product to a blind man. His cane had hit the door when he opened it, and Charlie, the dog, had given a little woof and wagged his tail at the company.
He supposed she looked him up and down. She was quiet for just a second before she continued.
“It’s not everyday that I get to sell my product to someone who would appreciate it the way you might-- may I ask, were you ever sighted?”
He was taken aback, but found himself answering.
“I was-- years and years ago. Why?”
“What was it that made you lose your Dangerous Terrain : Part One            A brush was pulled through her curly, uncooperative hair; she winced every time it encountered a knot. It hurt being a girl. She always heard such things from her grandmother and her mother. They had to spend hours in front of a mirror to look prime and primp. She listened to them when they lectured all the things she should do when she’s older. Appearance didn’t matter to her not at the young age of seven. The girl wanted to play with the neighbor boys; they were a lot of fun. The youngest boy was five while the oldest was eight. They were three peas in a pod; everybody in the neighborhood could tell they were good friends.
            “Mommy,” she asked in a quiet voice, “can I go play when you’re done?”
            “And have you roll around in dirt? You can play if you stay in the The Family BusinessGolden Guardian struggled to stand as his enemy flew off. The hero was too weakened to pursue; he would need time to heal and recharge his powers. That had been a close call.
The twins, Silver and Platinum, each wrapped an arm around their father and helped him onto his feet. Their older sister, Copper, had flown off to bring the Goldjet around.
“What are you kids doing here?” Guardian asked. “You were supposed to be at camp.”
“Yeah, about that…” Silver said. He stammered a bit.
“Come on, spit it out.”
Platinum said quickly, “We got kicked out early.”
“Again?” Guardian said with a sigh. “Tell me you didn’t get into a fight with Acrimedes again.”
“He’s a huge jerk! Just because his dad’s Zeus, he thinks he’s so special!”
“Not like he doesn’t have a hundred other siblings,” Silver snorted.
“Well, I considering how you just saved my hide, I

Scorched 1.1The moment the train stopped, she rushed out of her seat, ran out of the door, pushed her way through the morning crowd, and sprinted to the University. It was just her luck that her train broke down the day of an important exam. She wound up taking a different train which came later than its arrival time. Her eyes were fixed on her watch and her hand was securely on her book bag.
"What happened this time?" the receptionist asked Prishe as the Asterian burst through the doors of the University. She didn't look up from the desk but Prishe could hear the shuffling of papers as if she was reaching for something.
The young Asterian laughed uneasily and signed in. "The train broke down. I can't talk; I've got to get to class!" she replied, darting down the hall.
She took the stairs, figuring that they would be faster, but was quickly flooded by students. She was determined, however. She had never been late before and she wasn't about to start. Not caring who she plowed by, she continued tak Matched Ch. 2I looked for Lily and eventually found her in the classroom. “I need to talk to you at lunch, about my match,” She looked at me with surprise on her face”
“When did you get it?” she asked.
“Just yesterday. The letter came in the mail exactly on my birthday. I’ll tell you more at lunch.”
She nodded and I took my seat behind her. Our class was very small, so I wasn’t about to take the risk of telling her something this important in class where everyone could hear. I knew that people would find out eventually anyway, but I wasn’t ready for that to happen, especially not when Gage was telling me that he may have a plan. I had no idea what this plan of his was, but I was trying not to get my hopes up. Knowing Gage it would be some kind of ridiculous scheme. Luckily, our class time went by rather quickly and lunchtime came sooner than  I expected. We grabbed our Government issued meal and sat down in the grass outside. I told L Matched Ch.3I stood alone in my room and faced the mirror, trying to make myself look as presentable as possible for the dinner with Gage and his parents. I had met his parents before, but still as I looked back at my reflection I could feel the nerves creeping up on me. I just wanted them to like me. I was hoping too that Gage would talk to me again about his plan maybe sometime after dinner when we would have a few moments alone. Since the day in the woods, he had not spoken to me about his plan again. In fact, he had not really spoken to me at all. I hoped that I hadn’t offended him by calling his plan ridiculous, and to be quite honest, the more I mulled over what he had said the more it actually made sense. I had decided not to tell Lily about anything he had said to me in the woods although she frequently asked me about it. She had asked me so much, in fact, that I had to make something up. I felt bad lying, but I felt like Gage was testing me again, trying to see for sure if I could k

:thumb394319974: :thumb385045651: When Growing UpWhen Mana graduates from elementary school, she can barely contain her excitement.
    She is dressed exactly like Keahi; same dress, same shoes, same hairstyle. Her friend can't tell them apart, so he hugs both of them for good measure, much to Keahi's delight.
    Her teacher calls her name after Keahi's, and she trips while running to meet her. She giggles uncontrollably, but still manages to shake her teacher's hand.
When she graduates from middle school, she knows a longer road lies ahead.
    She wears the nicest dress she owns, and crimps her hair. Her friends can distinguish her from Keahi now, and they tear up as they plan for their last lunch period tomorrow. She won't be there in high school.
    She bids teachers farewell before meeting Keahi at lineup. Keahi tells her not to trip; she grins.
 
When she graduates from high school, she is elated.
     She has high honors, and walks before Ke

This is not my MemoryThis is not my memory. This story is about me, handed down from my mother from the time before I knew me. It’s a strange brackish place to have a story. It’s real, it is my life, but I can’t recollect it. However, from the moment that I can remember, it and others have been told to me so that I see them. This is not my memory:
The denim dress my mother likes on me is just getting to small. At almost two, I grow quickly. My hair is probably just losing its downiness, but I am still a plump ball of noise. We are together, my mother, her friend Paula and I, and in the A&W on Marine Drive by Brooksbank Street. The same place is a Martial Arts dojo now. This story takes place on the steel and orange-plastic tables with chairs attached to deter thieves and we are surrounded by curious construction workers and an old man with a wrinkled face. Paula tells my mother what a bummer it was that there were no shoes in her size, and I ignore them. I am young enough to stand on

Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.
Mark Twain