Rocking Out "Bad Girl Style"
by Mighty_Mouse

Comment:
Woah. Just stumbled on this. I like the symbolism (however unintentional) of the V wedge guitar.

The wise one
by Scapeshots

Comment:
He sat on his metaphorical throne, he, the King of Beasts. It was not a title to be taken literally, but he did take it seriously. So he sat, and surveyed the lands about him with a grim and determined look in his eye.

The lands were not as they once were. Prey had grown scarce. The lionesses returned with fewer and fewer kills every time. At the edge of his territories, there were strange beasts that walked upright, on two legs, and built strange things and burned things and, worst of all, killed his people and ravished the herds, and all the time they advanced further and further into his lands.

An unknowing snarl passed his snout and glinted in his eyes. So far, he had warned his lionesses and the younger males to stay away from these creatures. Avoid them at all costs. How much longer could he do this? How much longer could he allow them to advance without putting up a fight?

An exasperated growl built up deep in his chest, which he let rumble out, long and low. Some of the lionesses glanced his way in concern, and small birds and animals scattered from the grasses around him.

Soon it would be time. Soon he would have to gather his Pride and take a stand. There were no more places to run to. No more places to hide.

He let his pent up tension out in a roar that echoed on the savannah, causing all that could hear to stand up and notice, and then he sauntered off to take refuge in some shade, and build his strength for that coming day.

Faces of Hope
by MacDonald

Comment:
He drew her to him, the old woman and smiled a bitter-sweet smile.

He had lost his parents to an accident before he could even remember who they were, and she had taken him in. He had grown knowing only her love. He had grown feeling only her arms around him in comfort when he had skinned a knee. He had grown only tasting her minted chapstick when she kissed him goodnight.

He had grown knowing only her, and she was his savior and guardian and the only mother he had ever known.

Now, she had grown old, and her health was failing, and he knew that she wouldn't be with him for very much longer. Now, on some nights, she forgot things. Sometimes forgot his very name.

Now she had grown and needed his arms around her in comfort. Now she had grown and needed his love, and patience, as he cared for her ailing body and mind. Now she would taste his minted chapstick as he kissed her goodnight.

For now, he could hug her close, and thank her for all that she had done for him in his life, and try only to repay her as she neared the end of hers.

Remembrance
by bob350

Comment:
From a past that stretched beyond memory, there existed in that place a pool. On the surface it was like any other pool, nestled amongst the rocks and trees, sunlight glinting off its surface on the days when the sun indeed shone through.

There was no reason to believe that it was any different than any thousands of others like it scattered across the earth. But it was different. Very different.

If one were to come to this pool, and sit down for awhile, and study it for a time, one would beginning to notice some odd things. One would begin to notice how no insects or birds would come to this pool. One would begin to notice how, if it rained, not a single rain-drop would fall upon the water. One would then notice that any leaf that fell in the autumn of this place would fall away from the water. Finally, were one to actually lean over, and peer into the depths of this pool, one would then begin to see not stones, or mud, or plants or fish. One would see a thick and oily morass bubbling just below the surface, in which, now and again, faces of nightmarish evil would peek.

So this pool had sat for millenium upon millenium, from before the time when human kind stood upon the earth. A mirrored trap for creatures of evil and demons from beyond. Safely ensconced in a magical field that kept all outside influences from breaking the surface of this prison.

Then, one beautiful, sunny day at the end of an Autumn at the end of an age, a single leaf broke off its branch, and descended towards the pool. As it fell, this time, it did not fall away. It did not somehow take a course that would lead it to the bank. This time, it fell straight down. This time, it would touch the surface of the water, and as it did, the surface rippled outward and shattered.

The magic was gone, and the end of the earth poured out.

Searching For His Girl
by LadyK

Comment:
Ol' Buck had never been the brightest bulb in the socket. Growing up he'd always been just a little behind the other kids. The last to learn how to stand, the last to climb the treacherous cliff face, the last to grow his horns.

To compound matters, he was born with an unfortunate pair of oversized front teeth, which, incidentally, is how he got his name.

No, Buck was kind of simple, and was teased a lot, but Buck had something none of the other Rams did. He had Sheila. Sheila was his girl, and she loved him for who he was, not for what he looked like, or how he sounded, or if he could win any battles in the rutting season.

And for that reason, Buck walked proud, holding his head up high and if he heard the snickers behind his back every time Sheila gave him a kiss and he blushed and said, "Aw, Gwarsh", well, he gave no sign that he had.

Prrrrrrr
by battymaddie

Comment:
It was bath time, one of his favorite times of the day. It meant relaxation and a respite from the worries of life. A break from the hunting, and hiding from those strange animals in their strange angry metal beasts. Yes, bath time was his favorite time, and as he cleaned his fur he purred contentedly and...

Stopped cold. There, before him, stood one of those strange animals, and the animal was carrying something, something long and frightening to behold, and it was pointed at him. A low growl escaped his throat, and before he could really think, instinct kicked in and he was off the ground and lunging for this animal, this thing that dared disturb him now.

An explosion from the stick the animal carried, and it almost sent General running off, but he was angry now, angry and frightened and he meant to make this animal pay, and when that sound didn't result in any kind of pain, he continued towards his prey and leapt.

Some time later, he lay back down in the brush and sighed. He looked at his red and matted fur and smiled. He needed another bath, but that was ok.

It was his favorite time of the day.

comfort
by timfythetoo

Comment:
We don't really know how the mind of a child works. We rarely remember much of those early days, and the brain grows so fast and connects and reconnects and disconnects and changes almost every hour, if it even takes so long.

We don't really know how the mind of a child works, and sometimes it can confuse us and fluster us, and sometimes despite everything we try to do, the child can only look at us helplessly, or cry, or scream, or seek their own way of calm and comfort.

Whether it's a thumb, or a favorite stuffed animal, or a blanket held tight, or sitting in a chair and rocking themselves, every child has a comfort of their own, that they discover on their own.

And when a day of laughter and play and discovery turns to a moment of fear or anger or frustration or sadness, and when we as parents or caregivers simply cannot find a way to understand what it is that upsets them, sometimes it is because it isn't us that needs to comfort them at all.

We don't really know how the mind of a child works, but sometimes all we need to know is that often they'll work it out for themselves.

LeFT 4 FaSHION
by hanneke

Comment:
They stood and stared. Never had they seen such a thing.

From out of nowhere he came, as if from the sea, or from the air itself, but there he was. And as the waves crashed on the shore, and the wind whispered the sand, he moved. In a crouching sort of hop-step, he flicked across the sand as if weightless, holding that umbrella like some sort of holy symbol, and as he went he shot rays of sunlight from his fingers, and everywhere those rays shone, there grew the strangest sort of plant, right there in the sand.

Then, without a sound, he was gone again, and they stared at the emptiness that filled in where he had been, and their mouths hung agape, and their brains fought valiantly to understand what had just happened in front of them, but they were never able to explain it.

In the years to come, those plants grew into trees, of a species never before seen on earth, and the trees bore endless fruit, and the fruit became the cures for all of Human-Kind's diseases, and sickness was ended, and suffering was lessened, and a new age of peace and good reigned free.

Composed
by sir_bazz

Comment:
It had gone so well up to that point. She'd smiled, she'd posed, she'd followed just about every instruction above and beyond what had been expected of her. She had been such a good girl.

So her mind was elsewhere. Focused on getting pictures done. Focused on being such a good girl, that she just simply forgot. She was only small after all, and this whole "big girl underwear" concept was fairly new. She just forgot, that's all. She wanted to be such a good girl.

And that is how the final shot of the day showed the slightly guilty, half-surprised, knowing look of a young lady that had...

Just forgot.

But her daddy just laughed and gave her a hug and told her it was all right, and that she was a very good girl.

Owl with Attitude
by bassbone

Comment:
It was a day for the books, that day that Carl finally said "O RLY?" To Albert one last time.

Just try it, Albert had warned, I dare you. Just say it ONE MORE TIME.

O RLY?

Feathers flew, blood was spilled, and in the end they carted Albert off in a straight jacket. YES RLY! YES RLY, YOU BET YOUR OWLY ASS RLY! he screamed repeatedly as they dragged him off.

It's never pretty when someone finally snaps.