humor

Dear Readers,

When I die, I want to go peacefully like my granfather did, in his sleep--not screaming, like the passengers in his car.

Sincerely,
Otter Days

Otter Days's Reminder

Hello, followers!
Piano Bookworm notified us {she's Storyteller's real live friend} that Storyteller isn't going to be on today to post. Hence we'll be skipping her. Please correct me if I'm wrong, I don't want to get into any trouble. :)
Otter Days, please prepare a post, but wait until it's almost night time (wherever you live), just to make sure. If no post from Storyteller comes up, then please publish it!
I don't mean to be buggy, but I want to make sure.

Once a Pirate, Always a Pirate: Part 1

 ~A Pirate's Life for Me Series~

~Once a Pirate, Always a Pirate: Part 1~

Written by Willow{assisted by Darrion}

Characters:

Warren-Age 17
Willow-Age 16
Darren-Age 15
Darrion{D}-Age 14

"Yo, ho. Yo, ho. A pirate's life for me..." The haunting tune melted into the wind. I crouched up in the Crow's Nest, singing quietly to myself, attempting to drown out the song being sung below me. "Three hundred six men on a dead man's chest! Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum! Three hundred seven men on a dead man's chest! Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!" crowed Darrion at top lung.
 Darrion is my little sister. She also happens to really like pirates. "Three hundred eight men on a dead man's chest! Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!" She had been singing that song for about, well, however long it took to sing, 'Fifteen men on a dead man's chest! Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!' continually two hundred and ninety three times. "Three hundred nine men on a dead man's chest. Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!" Her cheery voice rang out below me. "Three hundred ten men on a dead man's che-" Then another voice interrupted her, "Darrion! Would you please stop singing that?! I can't hear myself think with that stupid song ringing through my brain!" Warren yelled at her, breaking off her song. D narrowed her dark eyes at him, until they were mere points of brown on her face. "It's a pirate song, Warren. What do you expect me to sing, 'The Wheel's on the Bus'?" D sniffed. I rolled my eyes.
Warren clenched his jaw. "You could attract.... things that we wouldn't want to attract."
"Like what?" D persisted. She wasn't the sort of person to lose an argument. Or let anyone get the last word in on anything.
She tossed her short, almost black hair over her shoulder sassily into the wind. Warren rolled his eyes. "Like, oh, I don't know. A Kraken?! Haven't you heard any pirate lore be-"
"Seriously? A cracker?" D interrupted. "Why would you be-"
"A Kraken. You are so.... never mind." Warren wrested control of his temper. D rolled her eyes.
"Three hundred eleven men on a dead man's chest! Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!" Warren closed his grey eyes, and muttered something to himself. Probably praying. I thought. Not that I would blame him.
 By the time D had gotten to four hundred men on a dead man's chest, Warren had finally had it. "Darrion, why don't you go check on Darren? I haven't seen him for a while." He asked through clenched teeth.
"Eh, why not. It's better than sitting around singing!" D hopped off of her barrel and flitted over to the stairs to the inside of the ship, humming. Her humming finally faded away once her head disappeared from view.
 I sighed. We had been on this boat for about a day now. We had first been given this mission by Philan, the Codebearer Head Commander. At least that was what Warren said. I had been being my diplomat self, representing the Codebearers to the Rebel Counsel. D had been cavorting off into different parts of the Galaxy, to who knows where. Darren {the fourth member of our group} had been assisting Philan aboard The Valiant, the Codebearer's flagship. Warren had been busy with 'Top Secret' stuff. Guys and their secrets. Humph. He, of course, hadn't bothered to tell even me {whom I believe to be the most trustworthy of the four, along with Darren}.
 I was startled out of my musings by D pounding on the Captain's Cabin door. Oh brother. I thought, rolling my eyes. Darren must have locked himself in the Captain's Cabin to get away from her.
"Darren! Why did you lock the door?" D called, still a-pounding. I strained to hear Darren's reply. It sounded like "Because." "'Cause why?" D persisted.
Warren rolled his eyes again. "Willow? Could you take the wheel for a sec while I deal with this?" He called up to me.
"Sure." I leapt gracefully off the Crow's Nest railing, landing with a forward roll on the freshly scrubbed deck {Hey, the Author's Force is powerful stuff!}. "Showoff." D muttered under her breath. I tossed my dark curls over my shoulder & trotted up the steps to the wheel. Grabbing the knobs sticking out from the wheel, I casually held it, as if I knew what I was doing {now let me make clear, I am no ship expert}. Warren knocked loudly on the Captain's Cabin door. "Darren! We know you're in there! Come out!"
He demanded. "No." Came the reply.
"Why not?" Warren was obviously getting impatient. One look at D told me that she'd past the impatient mark ages ago.
"I look appalling." Darren confessed. Darrion rolled her eyes again.
"It's just a pirate costume, Darren. We went shopping for it, I saw it. Ooh, scary." The lock turned & Darren emerged. He was dressed head to toe in pirate gear. I didn't think he looked particularly weird, but D burst into laughter anyway. He glared at her. She slapped her hand over her mouth, still spluttering out giggles. Warren squinted at her. "Darrion, go take over the wheel for Willow. Please." He obviously wanted her distracted, so as not to tease Darren. She shrugged, her hand still plastered over her mouth.
 Then, letting her hand drop, she bounded up the steps to where I stood. "Warren said I could steer." She told me smugly. I could tell that she'd wanted to steer since we came aboard, but Warren insisted that he was Captain, and I was First Mate, so D was stuck waiting for her big break. I shrugged, moving aside so she could steer. Pure delight showed on her face.
 I leaned over the railing, closing my eyes to take in the smell of the sea, the whistling of the wind, the shrieking of the gulls. Ahhh... Splash, thunk, Ahoy, there matey! There be a ship ahead, Captain!... Wait, what?!?! I jerked my eyes open. A normal looking ship was sailing almost neck-and-neck with us. I would have paid it almost no mind, it I hadn't seen the flag. A white & red hourglass on a black background. Pirates.... {we hate those guys}

To be Continued.... 

{What do you like about it? What do you think will happen?} 

Voice of an Angel {part 1}

HELLO, people! WA HA HA!!!! It's MY turn to write a story..... :3

VOICE OF AN ANGEL 

''Amazing, Nicole. Simply amazing,'' my choir teacher, Ms. Willabe, said. I shrugged, not knowing what to say. Just at that moment the principle's voice boomed over the loud speaker. ''Nicole Patterson, please report to the principle's office.'' Oh no. I could already imagine the principle's office:
''Patterson,'' drawled the pot-bellied principle. ''Did you or did you not take my pie?!'' ''NOO!'' I screamed. Teachers started arriving out of thin air, circling my chair. Ms. Willabe darts out of the circle, and ties my hand to the chair with thread from the sewing class. Mr. Mark, the math teacher, shoves a year's work of homework into my face. ''DO IT!'' He cruelly yells. ''NEVER!'' I defiantly scream.
''Nicole? Shouldn't you be going?'' Ms. Willabe asks, gently shaking my shoulders. ''Oh!'' I mutter. ''Yeah, um, bye, Ms. Willabe,'' I say, waving goodbye. ''See ya later!'' Ms. Willabe answers.

I walk slowly down the hallway. Finally reaching the principle's office, I gently knock. ''Come in, Nicole,'' Mr. Mattern answers. ''You wanted me?'' I ask timidly, opening the door a creak. Mr. Mattern laughs. ''You can come in more than that, Nicole!'' ''Okay,'' I say, and sit down in the seat closest to the door. ''The school has made a very important decision. What do you think that might be?'' Teachers. ''You decided elephants should know how to read and write, too,'' I answer, thinking of what that would be like. ''N-O. No. The school has decided we are going to have  a musical! The auditions are next Thursday. You'll have to audition, but we thought you would make a very good main character if you choose so. Just think about it, won't you?'' ''Oh, of course,'' I stammer, heart beating wildly.

''What do you think?'' Mom asks. I had just told her about the offer. ''I love to sing, you know that, Mom. But what about my stage fright?'' I ask.
TO BE CONTINUED.

Hope you liked it!

You guys are GREAT!!!!

Hey, ya'll!!!!


I don't know if this counts, but I gave you guys a blog award, because, frankly, you guys have an awesome blog all together!!! So give yourselves a hand, winners of the Your Blog Is Great Award!!!!!!!!! (and, no, this doesn't really apply to me)

Since I awarded it, I won't make another chain. ;)


Bye!!!


~Storyteller

Jess's Story

Here is part of a new story that I am working on. I don't know what the title will be yet. It is about a girl who goes to live with her aunt, uncle, and cousins because her parents have died. The time period is 1905. Enjoy! :)

I waited at the train station for Aunt Margaret. She was going to pick me up and take me to live with her and Uncle David and the cousins I was sure I'd dislike. I'd never met them before and all I knew about them was that they were four girls. And I, Clementine Parker, an orphan, was to live with them.
My parents had recently died in a boating accident, and I had no other relations that I knew of to take care of me. My father's family lived to far away, and my mother had one sister, Margaret. They and my grandparents lived in New York City.
I sat on the bench with my carpet bag next to me. It carried all of my belongings. A few outfits, books, a photo album, and a journal was all I needed.
My short, black hair bobbed in the wind, and my skinny legs swung back and forth, impatiently. Had Aunt Margaret forgotten me? I wondered.
But then, all of a sudden, I heard someone call my name.
"Clementine? Is that you?"
I turned towards the voice where I saw my aunt striding towards me. She was dressed in all black, with her brown hair tied up in a bun. She looked strict with her mouth set in a firm line as if she was displeased with me. I stood up, taking hold of my bag, and went to meet her.


TO BE CONTINUED

Jess's Reminder

Quick reminder--Jess, it's your turn to post!!! Good luck!!!! ;) The rest of you guys are doing GREAT so far!!!!


~Storyteller

Hello There!

Hello there! My name is Willow, and I'm a new story girl here! Yay!
 Just so you know, I intend on doing a story about pirates, once it's my turn to post:)

'A Pirate's Life for Me: Part 1'

 Aren't you excited? I just watched a pirate movie, so I've been re-inspired! Yay again! 
 Plus, I am a Christian, so my stories will probably have some kind of God-influenced part in it, as Madeline has already said. 
 Here are my other blogs:
 In the Words of Willow,
 The Force Sensitive Dolls,
 In the Eyes of American Girlz,
 Everything AG with Silence and Willow, and,  
 A Spy's Life.
 Thanks for inviting me, Storyteller!
Over and out,
~Willow

{P.S. Changed my mind, 'A Pirate's Life for Me' is the pirate series, not the story name. The story name is actually 'Once a Pirate, Always a Pirate' Part 1.}

July Stats

Congrats, guys! Our stats are coming right along!! Since you other authors can't see this, I'll tell you how we're doing. This is our all-time stats! I'll be comparing them (hopefully) every month.


214 America
1 Germany
1 South Korea


Congrats!!!! Your stories have brought in lots of cool people!!!!!! Cool people? We'd love to hear what you thought of the stories!!!


Bye, ya'll!!!


~Storyteller

Warrior Princess

Hello! I have this story I'm writing, so I think I'll post it. Here goes! :^)

The Warrior Princess: Lendra

Chapter 1

                Lendra gripped her bow tightly and peered into the darkness. She tentatively took a step, hoping that she wouldn’t walk on a stick and cause a snap. The last thing she needed was for the Enemy’s soldiers to hear her. Suddenly a figure appeared in front of her, startling her. She jumped back.

                “Who are you?” She reached for her dagger. The tall young woman, cloaked from head to toe, that had just emerged from the darkness in front of Lendra looked confused.

                “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” She smiled. “I’m sure I didn’t mean to.”

                Lendra shook her head in wonder. Did this person not know the danger she was in? She held out her hand. “Hello. I was just surprised to see you here. My name is Lendra. What’s yours?”

                The woman smiled. “Oh, I’m Neece. Lendra is a very nice name, but why do you have a dagger in your hand?” Her voice was not quiet at all. Lendra closed her eyes, trying to keep the mean words that she was thinking from coming out of her mouth.

                “Neece is a nice name too; but please be quiet. We are very close to Enemy soldiers.”

                Neece’s eyes opened wide. “Enemy soldiers? I didn’t realize they were close. Why are you around here, if you know that Enemy soldiers are here?”

                Lendra sighed. “I am here because I need to get to my parent’s farm. It’s on the other side of the Enemy lines.”

                Neece nodded. “Ohhh. I didn’t realize.” Then she whirled around, a completely new expression on her face. “I hear something. Do you think it’s them?”

                Lendra listened closely. There was a snapping of twigs, and it sounded like several men were rushing towards them. “It probably is. Here. You stay behind me, and I will try to protect you.” The woman nodded and went behind Lendra.

                Now the first soldiers were bursting out of the forest in front of Lendra. She began shooting arrows as fast as she could toward them. Hearing something at her back, she realized that they were surrounded by soldiers, but Neece was fighting them expertly with a sword. Lendra was too hard pressed to be surprised by the fact that what she had taken to be a simple-minded girl was now fighting like a pro. Lendra dropped her bow. The soldiers were too close for her to use it. Now she and Neece stood back to back, fighting against the enemy—Neece with a sword, and Lendra with a sword and dagger. When a soldier would get close, one of the girls would fight him. So far, they had won every hand-to-hand fight. Lendra fought grimly, afraid that finally, all their efforts would have been in vain, and they would be captured or killed. But as they kept defeating all the enemies that came against them, the soldiers began to slow down. Finally, Lendra and Neece were able to run, leaving the tired soldiers behind.

                When they reached a comparatively safe place, Lendra looked at Neece gratefully. “Thank--” she gasped as she looked at Neece. Neece’s hood had fallen off her head as she fought, and Lendra could see that her long hair was the peculiar light reddish-brown color with golden highlights of the Warrior Princesses of Adainia. “You aren’t who you were pretending to be!” Lendra stammered. “You-you’re a princess!”

                Neece smiled. “I am. My name is really Bernice Alana Kilidora Anmar, princess of the realm of Adainia. But I really am just called Neece.” She looked at Lendra and grinned. “Please, don’t worry about that. May I accompany you to your parent’s farm?”

                Lendra nodded dumbly. She still couldn’t believe that she had thought Neece was just a simpleton! But Neece had acted her part well. Anyone would have been taken in.

                Neece stayed silent as she followed Lendra, but when she saw a light in the distance, she motioned Lendra aside.

                “Please don’t tell them I’m a princess. Just say I am a friend you brought home for supper.” She smiled. “By the way, you seemed pretty accustomed to fighting. Do you go through the Enemy lines much?”

                Lendra nodded. “I do. I have to sell my parent’s vegetables, and the nearest town is through the lines. I’m pretty good at getting through unnoticed now, but not when I meet a person who has no caution, of course. Then I have to fight.” She kept a straight face with difficulty as she watched Neece’s eyes twinkle.

                “Oh, you wouldn’t say that if you knew me. We princesses have a bad habit of chopping heads off of people who mock us.” This time both of them laughed aloud.

Post Reminder

Reminder--Piano Bookworm, it's your day to post!! Good luck!! =D

~Storyteller

Hello

Hi! Yes, yet another madeline is joining the blog. I'm known as Madeline B., though.
These are my blogs, check them out if you will!
-Slipping Through my Fingers
-Katie in the Spotlight
-Breathings of Your Heart (another story blog)
I'm Christian, so sometimes my stories will be God-influenced.
I can't wait to post a story.....

~Madeline

P.S. My siggy's not working.... yet again. Am I the only one having picture troubles?

Post Reminder

Reminder--Madeline, it's your day to post!! ;) Good luck!


~Storyteller

Hello! :)

Hello! :) I'm Jess and I can't wait to start posting here!

Some of my other blogs include:

~ myagdollstory14.blogspot.com

~ agkailey14.blogspot.com

~ sixfarawayfriends.blogspot.com

~ foreverbffsag.blogspot.com

~ thelivesofnine.blogspot.com

~ mycollectionofstories14.blogspot.com

Thanks, Jess :)

A mystery

I fumbled around in the pantry looking for something to eat,

 nothing. "Honey, hurry up! You're going to be late for school!" "Ok

 Mom!" I grabbed a cinnomon bagel and ran out the door. With the

bagel half eaten in my mouth, I hopped on and started pedaling the 

half mile to school. I arrived breathless, I glanced at my watch,

8:15, only five minutes to go. I ran to the front doo and yanked it

open. I ran to my first class, History, and arrived there just as

 Mr. Horn was passing out-ugh, pop quizes. I slid into my seat next

to my best friend Rachel and started filling out questions. I loved

history and had

even read a little extra last night! "Class," Mr. Horn began,"I

have a important announcement to make,  in the academic competition this year is

Rachel Brown, Alicia Canning, Margo Liss and Courtney Salsa. I will anounce the boys later." I

could not believe it, I was not in the academic competition! This was a mystery and I was going to

solve it!

Madeline

Hi everyone! 

I'm very excited to be part of this blog!  Thank's Storyteller for the invite!  I hope you all enjoy following!  Oh and you can call me Maddie on this blog:-D

Maddie (Aka Madeline)

Piano Bookworm

Oh my! I am wayyy excited to be on this blog! Thanks for inviting me, Storyteller. Anyway, I hope everyone will enjoy my stories.

Great To be here!

I am super excited to start writing on this blog, but instead of me just going ahead and writing, what are some of your favorite kinds of writing? And do you have a story starters?

Comment soon!

Signed,
Otter Days

For Every Person There Is A Story Part 1

All right, everybody! I've been working with getting more authors. So, I know I only created it today, but here's the first story!

Rain Heights

I glanced out the window of the car, the wild bumps in the deserted, quiet dirt country road jolting me so that I couldn’t even place my arm on the door’s armrest without the fear of getting serious bruises the next day. And bruises wasn’t what I needed being the new girl.

   “Jessica?” Dad peeked at me in the rearview mirror. “You OK?”

   “Sure,” I answered without much enthusiasm.

   “Asa!” Mom cried. “Look at this!” Mom stuck the huge foldout map underneath Dad’s nose, making the tires on the car screech as we nearly flew off the road and into the huge ditch.

    Dad glared at her. “Careful, Mei.”

    My mother’s eyes only twinkled. “Look!” she pointed at something on the map. I could only imagine what on earth it was.

    “Honey, that’s…” Dad started.

    “…the town with the nearest Target store! I know!” she declared. “Isn’t it great, Jess?” she glanced at me, using Dad’s rearview mirror. “Look!” she proceeded to stuff it underneath my nose.

     I instinctively pulled it away and then glanced tentatively at the map that my Chinese mother had thrust upon me. On it, where her red-painted nails were pointing, was the name of a town. Zodiac, to be exact. Whenever I thought of it I thought of the Zodiac, the crazy killer dude in California. At least, there was a guy like that according to History Channel.

    “Where’s the town we’re moving to?” I murmured, flicking the map out of Mom’s hands and spreading it out over my lap, eyes searching.

   “Honey!” Mom protested, giving me The Look.

    There it is, I nodded to myself. Rain Heights, Population 10. Make that population 13. As far as I knew, that meant something about Hindus and beings, err, something like that.

    “Jess,” started Mom, “penny for your thoughts!”

     I gave her The Look. “Why on earth are we moving to a town called Rain Heights, where the population is 10?”
    “Honey!” Mom laughed. “Why on earth do you think so? Because California is getting way too politic these days. Besides, this is going to be just great for us! The East! Our California friends are going to want us to visit New York City and tell them all about it, you know.”

     “I guess then we should move to France,” I snorted, “so we can tell everybody all about Paris.”

    Mom glared at me, but a smile played on her lips. She usually never stayed mad for long, unless you forgot to say that her ancestors could’ve possibly been royalty or…well…yeah. That’s kind of our personal family secret.

      “We’re almost there!” announced Dad, avoiding my eyes in the rearview mirror. That mirror was starting to annoy me; it never did what I wanted, as in fog up so I didn’t have to see their eyes watching me.

    “I don’t see any signs announcing we’re entering a town,” whispered Mom to herself, glancing fretfully over the dashboard every few seconds. She turned to Dad. “Asa, are you sure that we’re going in the right direction? What if we picked the wrong dirt road? You know that all of them look exactly the same!”

   “Mei, just be patient,” Dad suggested.

   I frowned out the window, watching the trees fly by as Dad expertly drove the car away from danger (AKA the ditches on the side of the road and Mom’s sudden and sometimes unexpected distractions). 

    Just then, there was this small little wood sign on the side of the road announcing in sloppy paint letters, “River Heights, ½ Mi.”. ½ mile? Seriously? We should’ve already been seeing it, as far as I was concerned.

       I glanced out of the window again. Maybe not. The trees were pretty thick, tall and waving, and they certainly weren’t going to move anytime soon.

    “We’re almost there!” Mom squealed, small eyes bright. “Asa, did you see that sign?!”

     “Yes, dear,” Dad assured, keeping his eyes on the road like all good drivers do. I sighed and settled back into my seat.

       And then there we were—driving up the bumpy road towards what looked like a cluster of cottages. And, seeming rather out of a place, was a small little gas station that looked like a cottage, too.

     “We’re here!” Mom practically shrieked at the top of her lungs, gripping Dad’s arm so hard that he made the car swerve. He glared at her.

      There were twelve buildings and structures, one of them a Sinclair gas station and another looking like some kind of deli. Everything else, except one building that looked like a small warehouse, were small cottages.

     I wondered, faintly, which one was going to be my new home. What if none of them were and we were yet to see the horrors of our new house…I mean cottage in a dinky little town called Rain Heights, population 10.

    Right to the side of the car was a huge sign that announced:

Welcome To

Rain Heights

    

Ooh, goody. Just what I wanted. Not.

    “Jess,” Mom started, “isn’t this exciting? We’re already here! Quick! Be ready to grab your bags the second that Asa stops!”

    “Which house is ours?” I managed, trying to keep out Mom’s obnoxious giggles that filled the car.

      “I believe it’s called Apprentice Cottage,” Dad answered before Mom could come up with some crazy story, trying to scare me. “Apparently the residents name all of their cottages. It’s rather quaint, really.”

    “It’s awesome!” burst Mom. “Can’t you just imagine? Apprentice Cottage. The name’s so cool! Just like Ranger’s Apprentice, like those books you’re always reading, Jess!”

    “Right, Jessica,” Dad agreed.

    I sighed. It seemed that they both had their different names for me. Sometimes I didn’t even know what my real name was.

    Dad parked the car by one of the many cottages. It had a sign outside that said “Apprentice Cottage” in curly script. I wanted to roll my eyes but kept my feelings to myself and trudged behind my parents to the front door, where Dad was just fitting the key into the lock.

     As they bickered why the door wasn’t opening very easily, I sucked up the situation: our cottage was one in a row that made the only street in the whole town. Apprentice Cottage had a pretty good yard, fenced in by a tall wood fence. Trees overtook the backyard, and I couldn’t see how far it extended behind the cottage.

    Apprentice Cottage, like all of the cottages, was made of tan stone. The trim was all wood and everything. There was a small porch on it with a porch-swing, but I wouldn’t have trusted my life to that ancient thing.

      Vines and flowers had taken over the outside of the building. Mom was squealing about how it looked just like one of those cottages from fairytales. I didn’t want to burst her bubble and state the obvious—that fairytales aren’t real and that my life definitely wasn’t a fairytale.

       “Jess! Come on!” Mom called from the door.

       I sighed and then walked through the small gate and up the stone path. Dad was just pushing open the door, and both of my parents went into our new house. I caught up with them and looked inside. It wasn’t much—one bathroom, a kitchen, two bedrooms, a living room, an office room—yep, that pretty much summed it up.

      All of our stuff was already there. That is, like the furniture and dishes. Even my bed was up, but the sheets were still in the car. I frowned and twiddled a piece of my straight light brown hair. Everything had been brought here from California, just as Mom and Dad had planned and paid for. It was just weird, though.

     “Quick!” cried Mom. “That’s get everything unloaded so that we’ll be totally ready when the neighbors start paying visits!” her eyes were bright as she started to march towards the door.

    “Mei!” Dad called after her, grabbing her shoulder before she’d reached the door. “How on earth do you know that they’re going to come?”

    “I just know!” she declared.

    As if my mom was a prophetess or something, there was a knock on the door. I came out of the kitchen’s doorway, rather curious as to who on earth would be knocking on our door.

     Mom practically threw the door open, thrusting her face into the strangers’ faces. There were two of them, to be exact—a woman around Mom’s age and a boy around my age. The woman smiled kindly at my parents, wrinkles showing in her pale skin, the smile even reaching her blue eyes.

     “Hello.” The woman stuck her hand out from underneath a covered basket. “I’m Vanessa Johnson. And you’re the Freemans, right?”

      “Yep!” Mom agreed, grabbing the woman’s hand and nearly shaking her arm off. “That’s us! I’m Mei Freeman, and this is my husband, Asa, and my daughter, Jess.”

      Dad shook her hand, too, but more gently, thank goodness. I just managed a smile and nodded at her.

     “Oh!” cried Mrs. Johnson. “And this is my son, Logan.”

      Ooh, goody.

      “I just thought we’d bring over some friendship bread,” she continued, handing Mom the basket. “It’s my own recipe. I hope you guys enjoy it.”

      “I’m sure we will,” Dad nodded.

      “Well, that’s all,” Mrs. Johnson smiled. “Goodbye!” she waved and then her and Logan walked away, out of Apprentice Cottage’s yard and down the road.

      “Perfect!” Mom squealed the second Dad had shut the door. She smiled right at me. “Jess, there’s already a kid here your age!”

      My eyes grew bigger. “Uh, Mom, he’s a guy.”

      “So?” she shrugged. “It’s not like you have to get married if you’re friends. Honey, it’s not like we live on a reality TV show or we’re in a book or anything.” She grinned at me. “Come on. It’ll be good for you to have a friend in your hometown.”

     I glared at her but didn’t say anything. Dad winked one of his green eyes, the same color that I’d inherited. But it didn’t make me feel any better.

Welcome!

Welcome to The Story Club! This is a blog I have created so that people who like writing--like me--can share their stories! I will be inviting other authors that I know to participate. If you would like to be one of the authors, please tell me so in a comment with an example of your writing. I am a Christian and I would like to keep this site G rated. Thanks!


~Storyteller