A ChronicleA CHRONICLEA Chronicle
Chapter One: Maybe even king
Glen was a young boy and, as all young boys must, he one day ventured forth into places that he had been expressly forbidden (by grownups, no less, who undoubtedly Knew Better) to venture forth into. Nevertheless, forth he ventured, and eventually back he came. And when he had returned, something about him had Grown Up. At dinner, everyone noticed it. Father remarked, “My, what a strong arm this boy has! What a grip, what a set jaw, and look how tall!” Mother smiled and said, “Yes, and look how well he eat
FellFireFELL FIREFellFire
Chapter 1:
Seconday, Evenstar, First-Spring. Madame Donnadey said I should make sure to practice my writing whenever I got the chance, so it didn’t run away out of my head, and she even gave me this pen and a stack of clean paper—probably the nicest things I’ve ever actually owned, I mean that I didn’t steal from someone. So I guess I’ll write about what happens to me every day before I got to bed and that way I’ll remember how to make all the letters, and what order to put them in. Be proud of me, Madame. Today was a market day, so the main roa
L is for ElephantL IS FOR ELEPHANTL is for Elephant
Jason Shepherd
Nobody knows the zoo like I know the zoo. I know exactly how many pounds of litter are used in the big cat cages each month. I know how many baby penguins have been born in the penguin enclosure in the last twenty years. I got to name one of them—I named him “Charlie”. He looked like a Charlie. I know how many fingers have been lost to the crocodile pens since they were erected—it’s three, by the way. None of them mine, thank God. And I know the real reason Mimsey the elephant had to die. &
To ForgetTO FORGETTo Forget
The past Squirms inside me, with teeth A strange pale grub turned up by the clumsy spade of recollection And now, exposed to the sun, It goes steadily bad And worse.
I do not wish to have been young. If I could expunge myself of the child I was In a bloodless abortion of memory I would chop that grub into bits And scatter it to oblivion.
First piece up
--
I'm-a sugarfoot my hella Shinto movements straight on back to the time tunnel.
--Ray, Achewood
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