It’s so exciting to see that Tiny Owl Workshop has opened stage three of the Lane of Unusual Traders. If you’ve yet to check out this amazing writing competition, you really should. Continue reading
One brand new day, a brand new hen arrived on the farm and the whole hen house was in a flap.
Chicks giggled, hens squawked, Dot blushed from her toes to the tip-top of her comb.
“What’s going on in here?” asked the short sighted rooster.
“Quack!” said Dot.
“Oh dear, oh dear!” squawked Rooster, “No ducks in the hen house please. Go back to the pond with the other ducks.”
Rooster bundled her out of the door.
“I guess I could be a duck,” thought Dot.
The ducks were heading off for their morning swim.
Waddle-waddle, slip, slide, splash.
Dot followed them.
Wiggle-waggle, slip, slide, splash, glug.
“You can’t swim,” said the ducks as they pushed Dot onto the bank, “you can’t be a duck. Crows can’t swim. Go to the paddock with the other crows.”
“I might be a crow,” thought Dot.
The crows were just beginning their choir practise.
Caw-caw, caw-caw-caw, caaaw-caaaw, ca-aw.
Dot cleared her throat.
“You can’t sing,” said the crows, “you can’t be a crow. You look a bit like a pigeon. You should head over to the farmhouse.”
“That must be it,” thought Dot.
The pigeons were practising their plies.
Up, down, up, down, up, down, up.
Dot stretched her legs.
Up, down, up, stumble, trip, oomph.
“You lack grace dear,” said the pigeons, helping her up, “you can’t be a pigeon.”
“Then what am I?” Dot said, fluffing her feathers.
But night was coming and the pigeons had all flown off to their nests.
Dot trudged back to the hen house.
“What am I?” wondered Dot. A tear dripped off the end of her beak.
Her stomach growled…
Dot flew to her feet, “I forgot!”
She dashed into the hen house, leapt into her nest, crossed her eyes, held her breath and…
Laid one perfect brown egg.
“Woohoo! I quack like a duck but I lay eggs like a chicken,” crowd Dot.
“What are you then?” asked the chicks.
Dot looked out of the hen house door. The moon was rising high into the sky, big and bright and nothing like the stars around it.
She snuggled into her nest, “I’m just me.”
I have finally finished my submission for the Unfettered writing competition and sent it off on Sunday. Months of writing, rewriting, editing, deleting and writing again…and it’s finished!
So good luck my little creation. I’m very proud of you. ‘wink’
Let me apologise for my extended absence. I have been busily trying to finish some short stories for upcoming competitions (the Unfettered competition and the KBR Award for picture books) and have been neglecting my poor blog – it’s so unloved isn’t it!
Here is another story to make up for it though. I should add, after writing this I had the feeling I had read it before…as in I think it might be someone else’s story that I’ve subconsciously ripped off…but I’m not sure. So I’m going to post it anyway, but if you recognise it (or, God forbid, wrote it) let me know and I’ll pull it down ASAP.
I am Cat. Just Cat.
Once there was Cat and Man.
Cat and Man and sardines and a sunny step.
But Man is gone now.
There is just Cat and cold and hunger.
I smell mice.
Quick, too quick, they scamper away into the grass.
Rustle, rustle and they are gone.
My stomach growls.
Creep, creep, creep.
No one around.
Food for Cat.
Tricked and trapped, trapped and tricked.
It smells like dog in here.
Vroooom vrooom vrooom.
Cats. Cats everywhere.
Why are we here?
To find new homes.
Will a human take me?
No, not you. They only want kittens.
They only want kittens?
You are too old.
I smell chocolate.
I smell grass.
I smell dirt.
I smell boy.
I am Cat. My boy calls me Billy.
Billy and Boy live here.
Billy and Boy and milk and toy mice.
Boy has gone to school now.
But he’ll be back and I’ll be waiting.