party-party
by silverfoxx

Comment:
In the dead of the night they come. The wee ones, in their pointed caps and painted eyes, giggles as they leap and dance, giggles that seem to come from nowhere, and everywhere.

In the dead of the night they come, and they flit from shadow to shadow, and they consume of the crumbs on the floor, and they unravel your socks, and they hide your keys, and they make a merry mischief everywhere they go.

In the dead of the night they come, and they color on your walls with crayons and tangle the hair of your dog, and pour soap in your vents, and in the morning you blame it on your child.

In the dead of the night they come, and at dawn's first light, those giggles, the ones that have penetrated your dreams and made your sleep uneasy, those giggles cease and they disappear back into the holes and shadows from which they came, and you look all over the house for your slippers, which you swear were right there by your bed.

Late in Autumn
by bucket

Comment:
In the waning light of that Autumn day, she had wandered out to that spot. The spot where he had brought her so very often, to walk and to play, for a picnic in the sun, or snow-angels on a winter day. She knelt down with hat in hand, and gazed at it for a short time and remembered his laughter, his hugs, his stern reprimand for those times it was needed, the shine of his eyes when he smiled, the bark of his voice when he yelled.

She knelt there with his hat in her hands, and gazed to the sky and wondered what he was doing now. Was he gazing down upon her from somewhere? Was he thinking of her as she thought of him? The sun broke from the clouds just then, and shone upon her hair, and it seemed as if it was like a kiss from the clouds, a smile from the sky. With a tiny tear in her eye, she lifted his hat to the sunlight, and smiled despite that tear, and felt a comfort just then.

She knelt there, holding his hat high, and telling him in her own way that she'd never forget, never.

She got up, and hugged his hat close to her, and began to wander home, and her father would always be with her.

Beginning's End
by tate

Comment:
They sat upon the rocks that day, basking in the sun. It had been a wonderful day, full of laughter and frisbee on the beach, and drinks in the shade of the trees. It had been a wonderful day and now they had decided to sun themselves here along the path and talk about life and love and good times and friendships.

So it was, when one of them turned their head, and saw her. The child. She blinked, wondering how she had got past them without their noticing. The path was the only way to that lookout. She couldn't have just strolled by, could she? That little one with her red balloon. The woman began to say something to the others, but that was when the little girl turned her hooded head towards her, and looked her in the eye, and all the woman's words were cut off then, like a scalpel had nicked them from her tongue. Under that hood were a pair of eyes, that were not a little girl's eyes. They were not even human, those eyes, and they grabbed her and held her gaze, and would not let her go.

The woman desperately tried to call out to her friends, and a fear unlike any she had ever known grabbed her heart. The little girl (not a little girl! Oh no! This was no little girl!) was still staring at her, still grinning, and then she spoke, and the voice was soft and sweet and full of innocence, an innocence that was a lie.

"Pwease he'p me find my mommy, you can pway wif my bawoon!" She spoke, the words both coming from her, yet seeming to be right in the woman's head, like an echo, reverberating, ghostly.

At those words, it was as if the Woman lost control, and began to move. She stood up, to the puzzling looks of her companions and began to walk towards the specter of the child. She had a queer smile on her face, but there was also a tear in her eye. Her mind cried out against this, but her body moved on. The child beckoned and walked to the edge of the look-out. The woman followed. Her companions, thinking she was just stretching her legs, paid little attention, and paid the little girl none at all. It was as if she wasn't there to them.

With her inner mind screaming at her, and a tear finally tracing a line down one cheek, but that strange grin stamped on her face, she went to the child. She went to her to he'p her find her mommy. She went to her to pway wif her bawoon. She went to her, and kneeled down, and took her hand, and began to tell her that everything would be ok...

With shouts of alarm and shock, her companions watched her tumble over the edge, falling to oblivion below, and on the wind, a child's laughter.

Pole Position
by jrjr

Comment:
He stood there, and held his head high. All around him he could hear the calls. Words that hurt, jibes that cut. He could hear their disapproval he could feel their despise. Yet for all of that he stood there. He was different, he knew, but he was still a bird, and he still had a heart, and he still had his pride and his dignity.

Let them cat-call and tease and try and injure. He stood there with his head held high and was always pleasant and kind, and humble and strong.

In the end, they learned to accept him, and the insults stopped, and teasing became nothing more than a whisper, and friendships were eventually formed. In the end, they could all hold their heads up high.

Dancer
by kvickrey

Comment:
They stopped and stared. Standing just on the edge of the trees, still out of sight, they watched as what appeared to be a little girl emerge from the waters of the lake before them. She came up out of the lake, but appeared to be completely dry. They stood there with their mouths open, as the little girl began to dance. To spin and twirl and laugh so merrily. They stood there agape as, while the little girl danced, little balls of light twirled with her, and colors swirled about her, and flowers bloomed in her wake, and the wind teased her dress and her hair, and a song seemed to sing within their heads.

They stood there, watching, not daring to move, and as the little girl's dance finally ended, and she twirled one last time, she came to a stop facing them, her head slightly bowed, and she looked right at them and smiled a stunning little smile, and their hearts and minds were filled with wonder and beauty and good.

Then, with a laugh that echoed and twinkled away on the wind, the girl seemed to blow off on the wind like a dandelion seed, and disappeared, and none of the group in the trees would ever look at life the same way again.

Pensive
by mwwback

Comment:
She leaned back against the fence, and the wind tossed her hair, and she scowled ever so slightly.

How dare they tease her so, those other girls. She tried so hard to be friendly, to get them to accept her, to not pull her hair and call her names and pinch and mock her.

She leaned back against the fence, and the wind tossed her hair, and her mind raced through ways of vengeance, of ways to get back at them, at fantasies of punishment for those horrible girls.

And as her mind raced, her eyes began to burn with an inner fire, and the wind whipped her hair even more, and a sly little grin began to mark her lips. Then, with a slight and almost imperceptible nod of her head, she stood up straight and tall, and walked off, a glow in her eyes, to find a power that had been hidden within, and to start on a path to a destiny that no-one could have forseen.

Sand Thrower
by Jdroullard

Comment:
He'd trained for this moment from the time he could begin to talk. A few short and measly years, but all his time and energy had gone to preparing for and learning about this one moment.

He stood there, the hope of a nation, the pride of the world. He stood there, the tiny prodigy, a young sorcerer, ready to cast his magic and heal the world.

He stood there, and tossed his reagents into the air and uttered his words of power, and light flared upon the waters, and the wind howled in the sky, and the people gasped and cheered and the dying sun flared to life once more.

With a sigh, his little body collapsed into the sand, exhausted, and he was carried off a hero.

Raptor Exposed
by Scapeshots

Comment:
In the few seconds left before never knowing anything again, Gordon looked up and saw the empty bomb bays of a passing fighter jet.

Little did he know that seeing the empty bomb bays of a passing fighter jet usually wasn't a positive thing. Poor Gordon.

The local bully
by snaffles

Comment:
"Hey Spike, whatcha doin' Spike? Eh Spike? Whatcha doin? Can I see Spike? Hey Spike? Can I see huh? You burying a nut Spike? Whatcha got up there Spike? Eh Spike? Can I come up there Spike? You're a great guy Spike, I bet you'd let me help Spike, right Spike? Hey Spike? Can I come up there Spike? Come on Spike! Let me up there Spike. Let me see whatcha got Spike. Whatcha got Spike? Is it a nut Spike? I bet it's a nut, I love nuts Spike. I know you love nuts too Spike, let me see Spike. Come on Spike, be a pal Spike, huh? Huh? Be a pal!"

Busking Day?
by MG

Comment:
They had stood there for most of the day like that, beating the drums, playing their song. The people passing by would grin or laugh or throw a coin, but always wondered why these men stood so close, with one's head on the other's shoulder. Perhaps it was a show. Perhaps they were very close. Nobody knew, but they listened and gave their money and applauded anyway.

Near the end of the day, with their percussion coming to a close, the taller one turned to the other, and was heard to utter, "Paullie my friend, when this glue wears off, I'm going to hurt you."

Paullie just grinned.