stephanshortstories

[stephanshortstories]

A Cornell Carol

At the start of a year, at the ache of my day, I wondered out loud and just what this one year has in store. My inventory was stocked, with dates and boxes, my inner shelf already packed to capacity almost beyond my capability. But only Almost. Friends like customers cashed out my time until I was spent and as I returned home, my mind felt like it could register nothing.

And with thoughts swirling like an eye of a hurricane, I decided to close my eyes in hurry to sleep.

A sound, a rush, a blur, hush.

I sat up in my room, as I was visited by not one, not two, but three spirits.

Make no mistake, this was not some Christmas carol, for these spirits tried to cajole me from Christ en masse.

The first stepped forward and introduced himself, rigid and straight, like a ruler of his world.

“My name is Productivity. And with me, you will succeed. So just secede all other memberships and we will set sail into fixing your future. For without me, you know, You’ll end up shipwrecked and broke.

They cry, sleep! Sleep! But there is no sleep, not for us who are woke enough to know we must work to achieve our dreams and not simply dream them. By telling us to lie down on a bed, those who cry, “rest!” are lying to rob our embedded work ethic. The temptation to nap and doze off are only their attempts kidnaps and bulldoze your control.

Believe me, you need me, cuz this world, filled with uncertainty can only be made sure with work and deed. With me, is a guarantee for a future of prosperity, So let me claim your authority.”

And as he finished, the second, slanked his way to the front, not looking up from the front of his phone and retorted

“Just like, come to me all you who are weary and I will give you me, Complacency.

Satisfaction is my attraction and your reception is nothing less your just gratification. You rising star, you overachiever! You’ve risen indeed and now can just count your blessings in bliss. If others call for volunteering time, you can feel free to hang up cuz your already busy time speaks volumes. You’ve done enough, can’t they see that? You’ve seen it done, isn’t that enough?

You’ve done your part and although it’s true, apart from you, they can do nothing, the part they had you play was too small a role and they need to learn to roll with it without you. This ease, this gift from me, I gladly give for your authority.

And finally,  the third spirit came nervously up but with a twinkle in his eye, took his place next to his brethren.

“My name is Self pity. And with me, you will be seen. For the scene of your failure is that others fail to see. you. You who gave your heart, you who tried and so what is your reward? You’re tried and locked in the opinion of heartless wards, and so though they console your attempts, their consolation are constant reminders that they will not tempt you to care anymore. Best to withdraw, best to ignore, and let your absence gnaw at their minds till they are drawn to your presence and realize how much you’re worth. And if they forget to come, I’ll come to get you. If they dont come and grovel at your feet, asking for forgiveness, we’ll give them the boot, and leave them on the gravel. We dont need them, you’re bred to be better. This assurance of worth, this insurance from me, I will give, if you give me your authority.

And so, these gifts, these powers, these omnipotences, I choose to receive even as they received me. And I felt the strength that flowed through me…at first.

First came the Productivity, as all my days were measured in activity. How my day went? How was time spent? Productive. Got LOTS done. And if things did not reach that measure, if they failed to be productive treasure, they were either things to be fixed or worthless to me. Time with “community”, time to reach out and get rejected? Time to fail? I dont have time for that; give me something to achieve, something to learn, affirming what I already believe so I wont have to question how I’m living. But as time passed, and Productivity started to rob me of my sleep, which it assured was necessary to secure my future, I found myself tire and unfocused…so came Complacency.

Merciful, wonderful healer, Complacency, I’ve longed to embrace. You bring the excuse when my mind has hopelessly burned away, Oh, I now in my bed can stay. Grades? I no longer need grate my head to achieve. Averages count for As and that’s A okay to me. Invites to serve and lead? I rather not incite distress that make my nerves feel heavy with dread. And so with Complacency in control, I can say no or ignore the many things that ache my head. Excuse me, but “I got things to do”, “I got things now due”, or “I dont feel like it”, are my most liked excuses to recluse. But as I began to run this new race, I noticed my friends spending more time together while I lagged behind, held back by the scrimping of my energy. Pictures of their accomplishments, references to moments of trials and victories were scrolled before I recognized the nagging sensation; that Complacency had left me with no one. No one but Self-Pity.

—————————————————————————-

Self-Pity is a cat. It first rubs itself on you, making you feel special and wanted. As you embrace it, it purrs, affirming it’s your friend. Who needs others when you know your worth? Better to be alone with this than to be with others and angry. But as the cat grows, it starts to interrupt your work. It knocks things of life over. It chases more mindless things than laser dots. It hisses at the presence of others, keeping them from getting too close. It looks out the window, judging friends and passerby, wondering why don’t they see you. Dont they see you need help? It stares at you often, wondering how delicious you’ll be dead. And you soon find you’re the cat.

—————————————————————————–

And that you’re wasting your time.

So Productivity slaps me awake and eager to numb my loneliness, I drink it’s wine of work.

And so the endless cycle rolls on, productivity, complacency and self-pity, all once under my authority, now ruling my life in circles- nay, ruling my life in spirals, as I descend into what feels like an eternal bottom- even as I see an end. A sleep forever bottomless whose mouth is boundless and yearns to swallow me whole. And as I lay down my head in mimic of that which will one day come, I hear yet something else. I hear a voice.

Another spirit entered the room, its form at ease but its face written with concern. It gently stepped forward and announced in a still small voice:

“Child, Darling. Now piled and starving.

You who are weary laden and alone. I have heard your ache, I have heard your groan.

I bring unto you freedom, I bring unto you, rest Addiction and solitary, neither are meant for those who are blest

It’s true, joy and peace comes at a cost, but it has been paid, their price now tossed

It’s true, work require breaks But I long to give deeper rest than that which you rudely wake

It’s hurts to abandoned by the other But I have stuck closer than a brother

I long to see you smile again. Wont you come to me? I long to see you full again. Will you taste and see?”

At this talk, at this remark, the spirits within me rushed forth, malice filling dark and as one they bid me to ban, the lone spirit depart.

“Sweat, crouched, strained, tired This spirit lies, and with failure conspires”

“Slouched, glazed, bored and glossed This spirit longs for us to exhaust”

“Alone, angry, hate so strong This spirit with us? Never belong!”

But the Spirit replied,

“Driven, brave, on a new mission I bring freedom from this addiction.

Laughter, joy, peace, unconditionally I bring sounder repose than Complacency’s

Patience and faithfulness from above, brings all into family, brings all into love.”

The spirits answered back.

“You would ask him to work for others are we right? You would ask him to stop what he’s doing in sight? 

You would ask him to love others around, 

Others who left him? While his pain compounds? 

You would ask him to rest, when he’s doing ok. You would ask him to stop, waste his time away?”

And so even as clashes roared in my mind, I stood up at last, I had made up mine.

“Begone lone Spirit. This must be so, these gifts you offer me, result in what? Less control? And so less of me? Are you insane? While these offer me power, you ask I abstain? You tell me I must stop working? You tell me I must do more? You tell me I must give my life to others, even those whom to me ignored? You ask for too much, at least more than I want to give. And so I will turn away, continue the life that I lived.”

And as I began to turn and leave, I heard a sound which stopped and beckoned me. And though the spirits plead I disregard, I found myself turning at the sound that caught me off guard.

The Spirit was crying. And he was crying for me.

All other voices faded to distant whispers, as I watched the Spirit cry for me.

All anger and malice burned out, as I watched the Spirit cry for me.

All fear and restlessness drained out, as I watched the Spirit cry for me.

And in the moment of just us, I heard His prayer,

“Lord, God, Darling, my King,

Let not let your children be lost to sin

Look upon my tears, hear my shallow breaths

Look upon their fears, see their living death.

Their life, so much more precious than angels’ delight

Than our own safety, than our own might.

See them captive, forced to beg in filth,

Who wrestle for kernels in feces spilth

My King, set them free, this spell of sin

And let them find freeing life in you again.

Feel my tears upon your shoulder

And how my heart yearns for life lived bolder

Lord please, please set them free

Torturous life lived? It shall not be.”

And in those words, I heard something still, authority with power, yet love that cant be killed.

His vulnerability, his love, beckoned me And I let go, as other voices ceased.

And so my friends, the story ends here. For what choices will you make? Whose voice will you bear? 

The voices of you’ve heard, they will be present when I am gone.  But join the one whose arms, you belong.

[stephanshortstories]

Stephan’s Parables for AAIV

1) Senior involvement. (A true story) There were once some students who served much in their sophomore year of a Christian fellowship. Eventually, some felt too busy and didn’t like their serving and leading experience and they bounced out of the fellowship. There were other sophomores, however, who stayed and continued to lead, love, and serve their fellowship. When senior year came, an appreciation party was thrown. All the seniors, including those who had bounced out in their sophomore year, were welcome to come to the party. Soon, the fellowship underclassmen began to share their appreciations for the seniors. There were many appreciations given and said to the seniors who had stayed and served in the fellowship. But when it came to the seniors who bounced out, barely anyone had anything to say because they didn’t know who these seniors were. Only maybe one or two juniors shared an appreciation. The students who stayed and loved their fellowship made a costly decision on how to spend their time and energy but it resulted in love and gratitude in the end. Students who decided to bounce out, got to do whatever they liked with their time and energy but at the end, their decision cost them love and gratitude. Their presence in the fellowship will barely be remembered. Whoever has ears, let them hear and understand.

2) Mission in community. The mission of AAIV is like two school volleyball teams. One team practiced and was disciplined. In doing so, they cared for each other because how one team member is doing affects the whole team. Another team wanted to bond as well but they diluted their time and energy with other things like organized dinners, playing other sports, etc. Eventually, this team’s lack of practice affected their gameplay and they lost so much that they decided they didn’t want to play volleyball anymore and the team dissolved, breaking up into smaller friend groups. But the other team that continued to practice, and compete, formed bonds that lasted beyond their school years. So it will be for the fellowship who remembers its missional calling and practices it together regularly. 

3) What shall I compare a busy Cornell student to? A busy Cornell student is like a book whose pages all filled up with words from top to bottom, from side to side. If a reader wanted to write down an important note, the page had no space on it to do so. The pages looked convoluted and it did not invite others to read them. If the edge of the pages are accidentally ripped or coffee is spilled on them, then the words are easily lost. But the Cornell student who concentrates on a few important things to them and does them well is like a page with good margins. The page is open to important notes being added to them. Readers feel more comfortable reading what the book has to say. And if there is a rip or stain on the edges, the pages’ words are not lost. Blessed is the one who hears and understands.

4) Sabbath. What shall I compare a fellowship that practices sabbath to? They are like roads with a tesla charging station. Tesla drivers come, stretch, take drinks, meet other drivers, laugh, and watch movies and then head out onto the road. Their recharging time is not a nuisance but a gift and their journey becomes more than just the destination and they are fuller in heart. But the fellowship that does not sabbath is like a lonely road with few or no stops. Some drivers who join that road find their cars breaking down and needing towing. Others may reach their destination but reach it empty and tired. Whoever has ears, let them hear.

5) Emotional health. And what shall I compare emotional health to in a Christian fellowship? It is like someone who travels toward a far destination with a map. The person realizes that it is a far journey and takes a car to get there- not only is their journey more smooth but they pick up others along the way. But the Christian who rejects growing in emotional health is like a person who has a destination and a map but rejects any help/transportation getting there. They will toil, their shoes will wear out and be alone.

6)Taking risks together. There was once a woman who had their leg hurt on a run. After it healed, however, she didn’t want to run or do any sport again out of fear of hurting again. But she knew exercise was important, so she read books on exercising, went to exercising seminars, listened to talk about exercising, and joined an exercising friend group. But she didn’t exercise. And it impacted her health even more. And she became frustrated. She felt very convicted in her belief that exercising and running were important but she also struggled with feeling that she wasn’t getting healthier. So she decided not to believe in exercising anymore. So it is with a young person who comes to Christian fellowship. They may receive love and healing and community, but if they don’t exercise their faith and take risks in prayer, evangelism, and leadership, then their faith will be unhealthy and lethargic. 

7) <New Addition> Basic spiritual practices. What shall I compare your basic Christian growth be like? It should be like an Asian rice dish. If you have chicken, pork, and veggies but no rice, then it feels like something important is missing in the dish and you have nothing to absorb the sauces and juices. But if you only have rice, then you can be satisfied for a bit but having your proteins and veggies will make it better. So it is with a Christian’s faith practices. The rice is the basic things you need, like regularly reading God’s word, praying and reflecting. Once you have these things in place, then you can add other things like bible podcasts, sermons, Christian books, seminars, retreats and conferences. But if you just have bible podcasts, sermons, Christian books, seminars, retreats and conferences but don’t read God’s word, don’t talk to him in prayer and don’t reflect on how he’s speaking to you, then you may grow in knowledge of Christianity but you won’t grow in friendship of Christ. Don’t neglect the former or leave the latter undone.

8) Social norms in AAIV. In AAIV, there are some who find friends quickly. There are some who do not. The ones who do, should initiate and include the ones who do not. And the ones who do not, should nonetheless take the risks to form friendships with others in the fellowship too. In doing so, they keep each other from being alone. The ones who practice love for their fellowship and practice being missional will become leaders. But those who are not selected for leadership shouldn’t take it personally. Instead, they should seek feedback in how they are to grow in love and mission and perhaps try again or lead in a different way in the fellowship. No one should feel ashamed that they aren’t as good as leaders. They should instead seek to see themselves as dearly loved by God and then love others as they are gifted and invited to.

9) Books. Those who don’t take time to read Christian books is like one who finds a $50 bill on the floor and says, “Ah, my hands are already full. I’ll leave it” or if  Elon Musk or Bill Gates offered to mentor you and you ignored their email. Better will be the one who heeds good advice from books and shares it with others for they will grow in wisdom beyond their peers.

[stephanshortstories]

Know it all Norman

There was once a sad man from Kentucky

Whom many had considered unlucky

He had a great talent, through drink and beer,

it made him know all things, both far and near.

With one small sip, he knows lots about ants

With another, he can apply to grants

With a couple more still.he could save the bees

And fully drunk? He can get PhDs!

But there’s one small issue, and that’s his tongue

Which would rather ignore facts of the sun.

Instead, in his rather drunk demeanor,

Norman was a relationship cleaver.

In bars, he’d call out cheaters, drug dealers

Catfishers and quacks, employees that slack,

Who was in debt, and who was were big cowards

Who had bad breath, and who did not shower.

[stephanshortstories]

A Sunday Reflection

It seems ironic to me that in this extraordinary time, the most life saving thing being asked of us is to live an ordinary life at home. And I think most people my age dread it. To live ordinarily is to be boring, and to be boring is to be unwanted, unnoticed-perhaps even unloved.

A beloved writer noted, “Alfred Hitchcock said movies are “life with the dull bits cut out”’.  We want our lives like the movies- something dramatic! But just on the edge of predictability. Just enough to be liked and admired by those living with more dull parts than us.We dont want to be seen as the ones with a dull life.

And yet, whether by government demand or by fear, we have to live it. We have to stay home and live the dull, ordinary life. We are faced with the end of our travels, the end of our fleeing, the end of our show and must face our dread, our question, of who we are when we have nothing to show for ourselves. For sure, there are those of us who want to keep the show going- with the internet, we can still get an audience- but to live our lives in monotony- to simply wake, to simply stay put and simply go to bed-with nothing to show as productive or worthwhile- is such a nightmare, we’d probably rather go outside and risk getting infected than to face such an end. And yet, for my fellows in faith- or even those who are not- I think an opportunity presents itself to you. An opportunity not of escapism but of formation.

Our beloved writer, Tish Harrison Warren, points out to us,

“We have everyday habits- formative practices- that constitute daily liturgies. By reaching for my smartphone every morning, I had developed a ritual that trained me toward a certain end: entertainment and stimulation via technology. Regardless of my professed worldview or particular Christian subculture my unexamined daily habit was shaping me into a worshiper of glowing screens.

Examining my daily liturgy as a liturgy as something that both revealed and shaped what I love and worship- allowed me to realize that my daily practices were malforming me, making me less alive, less human, less able to give and receive love throughout my day. Changing this ritual allowed me to form a new repetitive and contemplative habit that pointed me toward a different way of being-in-the-world.”

Distilled from the outside and trapped among our belongings, we are given the chance to realize what we have been doing and what worshippers they are making us out to be. We are given the gift to realize what we have been becoming and the moment to ask “what or who really defines me?”. And I deeply believe when we hear the answer, then we will see our new dull ordinary days at home take on a new meaning - a meaning that will form us to be more alive, more human and more able to give and receive love throughout our days. To make clear, I am not arguing a stance for the lackadaisical homebody nor am I against exploring and trying adventurous things at home- but I do want to call out for us the fear of ordinary. Then perhaps we will see our new dull ordinary lives at home be more than cages- perhaps they will be our cocoons. If we only first be still and listen to The Extraordinary who’s with us.

[stephanshortstories]

The Boy who Cried Wolf: A Chinese Story

There was once a village who picked a boy and told him to watch their village flock. One day a wolf ran into the field and began chasing after the sheep. So the boy ran and cried out everyone he could in the village street. All the townspeople stopped whatever they were doing, came running to the field and scared the wolf away. The villagers happily affirmed the young boy for doing his job and life continued as normal.

But soon the wolf came again and the boy cried out for help once again. And once again, the villagers came out the field and managed to repel the wolf. Then this happened a third time once again. Some of the villagers started to get annoyed of how they had to keep interrupting their routines to scare the wolf. So they complained to each other until someone told the boy that the village was annoyed at him. The boy then decided to try and scare the wolf away himself rather than to bother the villagers. 

The boy had various levels of success. Sometimes he got hurt and sometimes the wolf managed to kill the sheep. But the boy took comfort that at least the village didn’t think he was annoying. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, the boy grew up and moved to another village. There he met other people who also grew up in villages like his. They all agreed to help each other if any of them asked for it. However, most people ended up not asking for help, because they didn’t think they needed to ask. 

The boy complained about this, and said “I wish people could ask me if i needed help rather than me asking them.” Others heard him and thought this was a good idea. So they began to ask each other if they needed help. Soon the whole village began to pitch in. It seemed wonderful. Problems were resolving and people were happier.

However, the boy soon heard that others felt peered pressured into doing this and how they felt like they had to do this or else they weren’t as good and kind as the others. And of course, even though they felt like this, they didn’t think to ask others to help them because it seemed like a small issue.

The boy took a deep sigh. He realized that his village had emotional and social issues that he couldnt fix. So he decided the best he could do was to love his village and still ask if others needed help anyway. 

[stephanshortstories]

Conversation between 4 people about marriage

FRED: Is it better to marry out of duty than to not marry at all? 

GREG: I suppose it must depend on the duty.

ELIZA: No, it must depend on the person you’re dutifully marrying.

LANA: Why must those be the only two options?

FRED: We’re only pretending in a given situation; which is better?

LANA: Well, I think it’s a rubbish situation. 

ELIZA: But it’s a reality that many people had to face back in the day. Like Jane Austen. She had the opportunity to marry someone but turned it down because there was no love in it. And she ended up living the rest of her life single. If she knew that would happen to her, which do you think it would have been better for her to choose?

(silence)

LANA: I’d say it’s better to not marry at all. It’s better to be single than to be with a crazy abusive maniac for the rest of your life.

ELIZA: But that’s why I said it depends on the person. I’ve heard of arranged couples sharing how they accepted the situation and got along with their arranged spouse and things worked out. They even fell in love as they got to know each other through their marriage. 

LANA: Yeah, and I’ve heard of how people ended up getting beaten by their spouse and had to live with that forever too. 

ELIZA: So that just works to my point; it depends.

FRED: But what if you don’t have time to know the person really well? Like forget about if you fall in love, let’s just say your standard is I need to know if this person is kind and dependable or selfish and crazy. But you don’t even get the chance? Think of Jane Austen. Maybe she got to know this man who proposed to her, and figured that he was vain and selfish. In which case, yeah! It would have been better for her to risk being single forever than to be stuck with him forever. But what if you didn’t know? What would you choose then?

LANA: Single. Definitely better to stay single. 

GREG: I don’t know. The other option is to like, die alone. Even if you were stuck in a bad marriage, at least you’d have kids who can love you and look after you when you get old and who can be with you when you die right?

ELIZA: Are you speaking as the husband or wife?

GREG: What difference does that make?

ELIZA: It makes a very big difference! Marrying someone that you don’t know is always more risk for the woman because we’re more vulnerable to domestic abuse. Percentage wise. 

LANA: Hey, maybe we should flip that statistic. Before we get married, let’s take boxing lessons. 

ELIZA: So we can beat our husbands up.

LANA: Yeah. 

FRED: WHAT!?

ELIZA: Haha, just kidding. 

LANA: But yeah, marrying for the sake of family duty is always more risky for the woman, so they shouldn’t do it.

GREG: Oh! But that brings in another point. 

ELIZA: Which is?

GREG: It’s family duty. What if marrying would mean her family- like her parents- is well taken care of and has the means to live in a house and be fed and stuff. 

LANA: Uh, would that be worth marrying a horrible guy though?

(silence)

LANA: You’re actually thinking about it?

ELIZA: Well, that’s easy for you to say! In an Asian household, parents would say stuff like “Oh, we sacrificed our whole life to take care of you. Now are you going to be selfish and not make sure we’re taken care of, etc”. It’s a lot of pressure. 

LANA: Well. I would say just no. 

ELIZA: That’s because you’re...

LANA: HMMM. I’M WHAT? SELFISH?

ELIZA: You’re you. <laughter>

LANA: But you see, if I were in a horrible marriage, I would say it’s harder to love and help my parents because now I have to deal with a crazy person and potentially take care of kids AND take care of my parents. I could just do that better if I’m not married. 

ELIZA: OH TRUE. 

FRED: Yeah, that’s a good point. 

GREG: But what if your parents don’t think of that? Or they go, “No, it’s still better for you to marry than to take care of us alone.”?

LANA: Then I’d say “Oh well! Too bad...goodbye.”

ELIZA: YOU’D LEAVE THEM?

<laughter>

[stephanshortstories]

Feels and Feline

Dear Madam Price,

I regret to inform you that your cat has died. 

I had directed my housekeeper to carefully follow your instructions, as dictated by your previous letter, on how to best supervise your feline companion, but it has appeared unable to last the week without you. I know you must have several questions as to the circumstances of such tragedy, but let me assure you that we had done everything possible in our abilities to prevent this unfortunate situation. I shall explain to the best of my knowledge and personal inquiries on what preceding events have resulted in this unexpected death.

Since your departure to Bath, your cat has clawed the doors and ‘meowed’ itself about the house unceasingly, despite our very best attempts at consoling it. It leapt upon various front window sills, pawing at the glass or leering out onto the nothingness of the countryside for hours. When it came time for dinner, we had kindly filled its bowl with its instructed diet and placed the bowl in the corner of the dining room. We rang your bell, but the toffee-nosed thing took one sniff, and never again approached the bowl. Even after the maids chased the cat with the bowl, it refused to eat! This was just the beginning of the many issues we had to deal with.

The next morning, the maids attempted to take it out walking with the leash you had provided to us. (It appeared very large, so we took the liberty to trim and tighten it.) Your cat, no doubt either lazy, spoiled or simple ill-tempered, struggled viciously, scratching several of the maids on their hands and wrists; but we had finally won it over without harm to the creature itself. As the maids attempted to drag the frustrated feline outside, a stray dog leapt out of the bushes and began to bark at your cat; it did so with such aggression, that several footmen had to be called in order to scare the canine beast away. My dearest apologies, Madam Price! There had not been a wild dog on the premises of the estate in years. Your cat was no doubt traumatised by such events for we could never find it that time in the morning again. 

Over the next several days, I’m afraid your feline companion’s constitution became difficult to examine as it withdrew from our high social life and became more and more aloof. The only consistent signs of its continued ungracious presence were various knocked articles on the floor, furniture bathed in car hair, and claw marks on all the doors. Also, the stray muddy mutt would appear outside the house every now and again, barking at what we guess must have been the cat passing by one of the windows. (That dirty stray simply wouldn’t leave no matter how many times we chased it away!)

Despite its uncivilised mannerisms, your cat was still important to us. In fact, with its food untouched, we grew greatly concerned with its health; so much so that on the fifth day, a search party was organized and we began our one hour house expedition for it. Finally, when one of maids opened a cupboard, she found the cat snuggled among the clothes. She let out a scream that she had found it; only for the unappreciative beast to pounce on her face! The poor panicked maid flailed around for several minutes, while others, including yours truly, gathered in the room to see what had caused the commotion. I swear that I hadn’t the faintest idea what happened next. I was told that someone heroically attempted to smack the dreadful animal off only the hit the victimised maid herself. The cat, no doubt realising its game was up, released its iron grip from her head, dashed out the room, escaped out a door just when someone else entered.

By the time we went outside, we saw that the stray dog was running away with something in its teeth. No doubt, the foolish feline had made its last mistake while making sure my entire housing staff paid for it by seeing its ghastly end.

I, of course, offer my sincerest apologies and although no monetary amount can ever replace a most devoted and darling pet, I am assured that there must have be a better one anyway; I will cover the cost of finding a more remarkable pet than this must have been to you and your family. 

No need to thank me, 

Sir Adams.

Dear Sir Adams, 

My pet was the dog. I have no idea where you had gotten the cat. 

Sincerely,

Madam Price.

[stephanshortstories]

The Meraks

It saw her first,

     all filled with mirth,

     perched high above the tree. 

It wondered much,

     “Could it be such?

     That she, could too, like me?”

Who pondered all?

     and felt so small?

     The merak! Who sat alone

Now looking high, 

     he let a sigh,

     and stirred himself to show.

Slowly. Smoothly. His feathers began to spread. 

Slowly. Smoothly. She in turn, now turned her head. 

A pause! An uncertain pause, where two paired eyes, now stared. 

A pause! A delightful pause, where two paired eyes, now shared. 

He shook his feathers

     All quivered together!

     But he knew he needed them not

She already smiled

     But not all beguiled

     And flew, from tree to rock. 

They joked, they talked, 

they listened, they taught, both made each other feel dafter.

She spoke, he heard,

He shared, she slurred, making them both burst out in laughter.

Alas, alas! The time had come, both needed to say goodbyes. 

Alas, alas! The time had come, it felt they just said hi. 

A pause! A delightful pause, where two paired eyes, now shared.

A pause! An uncertain pause, where two paired eyes, now stared.

“Thanks for the time. Thanks for the laughs! Will I see of you again?”

“Thanks for the time, I truly hope! Best wishes until then.”

He waited long,

    without much word,

    perched high above the tree.

She wondered much,

    “Could it be such?

    That he, could still, like me?”

Who pondered all?

    and felt so small?

    The meraks! Who sat alone

And looking high,

     each let a sigh,

     Who’ll stir themselves to go?

[stephanshortstories]

StarStruck

When the universe was young, and baby planets and homeless asteroids stumbled about in the universe, there woke, the stars. Although these stars weren’t magical, they, like other special things in the universe, were able to talk, think and in some capacity move. And they still do! We’ve just failed to pay attention. 

As the stars woke and saw each others’ lights, they congregated around each other. And as they attempted to greet one another, they were startled; they found that they could sing! It may not have been the singing we are used to though, for it came in what is best described as waves of rhythms or long pulses filled with sweet crescendos. It was beautiful, with voices reaching notes and forging melodies far beyond our imagination. Their harmonies and symphonies rang throughout the young universe...and they were heard. The stars soon found that they were not alone, as droves of tiny planets and whizzing asteroids came to find the source of the music and they were at awe. 

Then something quite unexpected happened. One of the asteroids got too close, and FOOOM. It was gone. Lost forever as it smacked and crackled into a star’s surface. It was then that the music suddenly stopped. Everyone stared.

The star, itself, felt no pain but was momentarily shocked. But then it noticed something; it felt warmed and slightly brighter as now new additional elements had joined its heat. A thought crept into the star’s mind and star started singing again, but much more loudly this time. 

FOOM. FOOM. FOOM. 

Two more asteroids and even a small planet were sucked into star’s fiery surface, unable to resist the star’s melodies. And just like before, the star found it able to shine brighter and hotter. Watching, the other stars saw the changes too and each scattered in a different direction to sing loudly and draw more rocky beings to themselves, making themselves larger, brighter and hotter. And what made it worse, was that the planets and other small cosmic bodies could not escape-- though loud and discordant, the songs were somehow still songs and had retained their power to draw in awe.  

However, not all stars followed suit. One such star was horrified by the shift in music- the songs that were once harmonious and joyful were now spastic and violent. Frightened by such violent exchange, the star tried moved away from the others. 

Hey! Where are you going? asked one of the other stars. “Trying to find another place to sing and eat planets? That’s smart. No competition.” 

FOOM. The star “ate” a passing comet.

“No! That’s not it at all! I just don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.” 

“Hey, I get it. It’s not ideal, eating these poor rocky planets but hey! Think about it. It’s about survival! You NEED the fuel if you want to burn brighter!”

FOOM. FOOM. It absorbed two more. 

“C’mon, just TRY it. It’s not that bad.”

FOOM. FOOM. FOOM. 

“We’re stars! We can’t HELP singing and drawing them in.”

FOOM. FOOM. FOOM. FOOM. 

“NOOOOOOOO.” And with that, the tormented star sped away. 

When it had gone a considerable distance, the star stopped and screamed in its head. If it sang, others would come to listen and they might be disintegrated if they got too close. If it did not sing, then it would damn the very joy it was made for. The young star writhed in the tension!

..but as songs and melodies flooded its mind, it could not withhold them any longer. The star leaked out its song. And though it tried to do so quietly, it looked around and perceived its worst nightmare; small celestial spheres were coming to listen. Still quietly singing, the small star tried blocking out all its senses, waiting for the dreaded FOOMs to happen. 

But nothing did. 

Instead of a FOOM, another sound was heard; humming. The star looked around to see two of the planets dancing in circles around the star, humming as they did. 

“Um, what are you doing?” asked the star. 

“Just doing what you’re doing, hehe”, answered the planets giggling.

To its embarrassment, the star realized that it had still been writhing the whole time and that planets had made it into a kind of dance. 

“But please, don’t stop. It’s actually kinda fun!” remarked one of the tiny planets. 

“And we love your song! Mind if we try singing with you?” asked the other one.

“Um, I guess so”, answered the star with a nod. And with that, the planets, with their tiny highly pitched voices, hopped into the star’s song, forming a new harmony entirely. 

In that moment, it was the star’s turn to be awestruck. This was something new! In a moment of joy, the star sang a loud note. But rather than being sucked into the star, the planets zoomed around the star faster, laughing as they did. 

“That was fun!” “Do it again!” they shouted. 

The star did it again and this time, the planets threw their own loud but harmonious melodies. 

By this time, more planets and even a few stars had gathered to see and hear this new song that rippled out from the three of them. 

“I want to join!” “Me too!” 

Several planets were now in one chorus with the star, all dancing. Even some moons joined by dancing around the planets, adding their own subtle rhythms and beats to the planets’ song, which in turn resounded in the whole.

The stars present were in awe and slowly, they too began to change their songs; no longer contented with being hungry consuming flames, these few sought to build the joyous choruses they had just witnessed. And as sweet symphonies once again rang in the universe, a new beginning dawned. 

[stephanshortstories]

Nuts

“Can I show you the pictures I drew today?”

I’ve had a long day of work and after finally getting Skip to her bed, I thought it only fair for a father to at least spend some time reviewing this small part of his daughter’s life. 

“Draw? I didn’t know you drew.” I said with a smile.

“Yeah! I just started today.” she gleefully answered. 

“Well, let’s see what you got.”

The daughter, Skip, began taking out sheets of paper that were on the floor next to her and handed them to me. I crudely drawn pictures of simple objects like plates and chairs; some of the pictures were of food, like bananas or apples. Turning over the next sheets, I also found she had drawn various pictures of our family, sometimes having a drink together, or at the dining room table; but something was..off. 

In each of the pictures of us, I noticed a strange, large, looming figure in the background.

“Hey honey, who is this?” I asked, pointing to the figure.

“They call him, Bob” answered Skip, without making eye contact with me. She just started down at her bed.

“They?” 

“Yeah, there are others like him.”

I felt a chill tingle in my hands but breathed slowly, not wanting to betray any sense of fear or concern at her work.

“Well, why is he there? Is he imaginary friend?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. Sometimes when we’re together as a family, he’s there.”

“Oh. Does he play with you?” I asked further. 

“No, Dad. He takes our family away.”

A felt a shock ring in my body, and it must have been on my face because Skip looked at me and continued, as if explaining:

“Daddy, we’ve been over this before.”

“What do you mean? You haven’t told me this before.”

“But daddy, I have. Bob has taken away Peter, Jiffrey, and Justin...”

“A-and, who are they?” 

“Daddy. They’re my brothers. Your sons.”

My sons? No, those names rung hollow in my mind. I have never heard of those names before. 

“If you had brothers, I would have known--”

The sentence died in my mouth when for the first time, I noticed Skip’s bed was big. Like too big for just her. 

“Daddy, every time Bob takes someone away, you forget them.”

She looked at me dead in the eyes, staring as if commanding me to remember. This is...this is ridiculous. This is nuts. I mean...I mean...I looked away from her eyes and noticed the room. There were other crudely pictures of the family...with other family members in them. 

“Daddy, if Bob takes me away, are you going to forget me?” 

“No sweetie, no one is going to take you away”

I leaned over and gave her a hug, still scanning the pictures that hung in the room. Skip turned her head toward my ear, and whispered; 

“That’s what you said to them too.”

Immediately, a loud knock on the door thundered in the air. 

I turned swiftly around and both stared. It was quiet. 

And then suddenly, the knocking started again. Louder and LOUDER. 

“Let us in, PLEASE”

(To be continued, in part 3)

[stephanshortstories]

Cookies in a Pickle Jar

Two cookies and a pickle were in a jar. After some awkward silence, the pickle leaned over to the cookies and whispered, 

“Psst, hey, I think you two are in the wrong jar.” 

"Oh, my bad” replied one of the cookies. They both looked up to see the lid over their heads. Turning to the pickle, one said “I wish we could leave, but we’re in a pickle. That lid is shut tight.”

The pickle looked up. “I’m pretty tall. Maybe I can see if it’s ajar.” 

The pickle tried reaching the lid, but found that he was too short. “I can’t reach it guys. Sorry.”

“Well, that’s the way the cookie crumbles...” said one of the cookies. 

“Maybe we can knock the jar over to its side and then open it?” suggested the other one. 

All together, they ran from one side jar to the other, rocking the jar until finally, it fell on its side. 

“You’re one smart cookie!” said the pickle. 

“Don’t butter me up. I know you just want us to leave faster.”

“But you’re already buttered up.” whispered his cookie friend. 

“SSHHHHHHHH. You know I’m sensitive about that!”

“You’re right, I just wanted you to leave faster.” interrupted the pickle. “Now, let’s check if this lid is loose...”

He pushed the lid slightly and soon it started moving out of the way. 

“Piece of cake!” shouted the pickle. 

The cookies stepped out of the jar and realized that indeed, what they thought was the lid was actually a piece of cake; a slice of cheesecake as a matter of fact. 

“WHO KNOCKED ME OVER??” said the slice of cheesecake while getting up and turning around. 

The cookies and pickle all froze in fear. 

“GUARDS! SEIZE THEM!” 

Several eggs in one basket jumped out and immediately began chasing the fugitives. 

The pickle and cookies started running down the counter but were soon cornered. The eggs tied them up and brought them back to the cheesecake on a silver platter. 

“Well, well. You thought you could knock me down AND get away with it too, hey? Well, I didn’t come into power by letting people have me and eat me too! GUARDS, PREPARE THE EGGSECUTION.” 

The eggs brought a gallon of milk and began to pour it down a bucket, which was next to the counter on the floor. When it was all done, they began to make the cookies walk the plank. 

“Please, don’t do this!” the cookies pleaded to the egg guard. 

“Sorry. You insulted the big cheese. There’s nothing I can do.” it replied. 

As the cookies were brought to the edge of the counter, they began to cry over the spilt milk. 

“You don’t have to do this! PLEASE!”

The egg guard stopped and hesitated. Noticing his hesitation, the cheesecake egged him on and get it over with. 

“Do it.” The egg guard didn’t move. “I said do it.” Still the egg guard didn’t move as if it didn’t hear what the cheesecake said. 

With a big shout, the cheesecake yelled, “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR! THROW THOSE BAD EGGS OFF THE CLIFF!” 

The other egg guards looked at each other and immediately began throwing each other off the counter. 

“NO! NOT YOU!” shouted the cheesecake but it was too late. Amidst all the confusion, the cookies tried to escape. 

“STOP THEM! STO--” the cheesecakes commands abruptly stopped when one of the eggs accidentally landed on top of him. “I HAVE EGGS ON MY FACE!”

By the time the cheesecake cleared his vision, the cookies were gone. But the pickle was still there...

End part 1

[stephanshortstories]

What Leader Do

Building ships that were meant to sink

Building towers that were meant to fall

That is what leaders do when they say it can’t happen

Playing music to create cacophony

Cooking food that people will hate

That is what leaders do when they say it can’t happen

Teaching children to not think

Sending ambassadors to start war

Befriending others to make more enemies

LIfting others to push them down harder

Scrubbing dishes with sewer water

This is what leaders do when they say it can’t happen

Are you leading?

[stephanshortstories]

Paper Ballerina

CHARACTERS:

DANCER

BALLERINA

 Four STRANGERS (labeled 1, 2, 3, 4)

Set: a blank stage except for a Ballerina in the middle. She’s sitting but curled, hiding her face. 

Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ijzvv4W3v0

Music begins. 

The Dancer enters stage from right, moving gracefully toward the center. The dancer appears to paint the stage with their movements, making long strokes here and small dabs there. 

The Dancer then comes behind Ballerina; Dancer bends and “blows”, raising the Ballerina to life. The Dancer teaches the Ballerina to begin dancing herself. 

The Dancer twirls. The Ballerina twirls. The Dancer gives her a thumbs up. 

The Dancer introduces the Ballerina into the world and sends her to show off her dancing. 

The Ballerina is excited, and finds someone walking by and stops them. The Ballerina dances and waits for their thumbs up.

Stranger 1 scrutinizes. Stranger 1 takes out a mask and places it on the Ballerina and then gives her the thumbs up.Stranger 1 leaves. 

Ballerina looks a little confused about the mask but shrugs and accepts. Ballerina walks further and finds Stranger 2. Ballerina dances again and does a “tada” to see what Stranger 2 thinks. 

Stranger 2 also pauses and shakes his head. Instead, Stranger 2 takes out a weight and places it on the Ballerina’s feet. Then he gives the thumbs up. Stranger 2 leaves. 

The Ballerina feels her face and looks at her feet, now much heavier. She nods as if understanding. 

Ballerina continues to go and find others (Strangers 3 and 4) and shows them her dance. They scrutinize and then shake their heads. They go add weights to her body and arms and then give her thumbs up before walking away. 

Music stops. 

Ballerina tries dancing but struggles with the weight. Soon she finds all the strangers and begins to dance for them. But the weights are too heavy, and she cannot balance herself and falls. 

Music slowly starts again.

The strangers shake their heads and give her thumbs down. Ballerina raises her hands, pleading with them to stop and wait. She tries to get up and dance again, but does so clumsily, tangling herself and falling again. Strangers dismiss her. 

Ballerina is by herself, and begins to curl up. The Dancer enters stage, dancing as before, and sees the Ballerina. The Dancer touches her shoulder and she looks up, and is shocked, backing away. She tries to get up but the weights keep her down.

The Dancer assures her it’s ok and takes the weights off. Dancer also removes the mask . 

The Dancer gently helps Ballerina to stand and motions for her to try dancing again. She tries but her motions are wild, causing her to trip again, being so used to the weights before. The Dancer catches the Ballerina but she shakes her head and covers her face. She scrambles for the weights again. She’s uncomfortable with them off.

 The Dancer stops her and she looks at the Dancer. The Dancer shakes their head and lifts her up again and teaches her to dance again like before. 

She does so slowly and clumsily as if with fear. But the Dancer still gives her a thumbs up. 

The Ballerina smiles. 

Light fades.

Music ends.

(Optional add on. Just before music fades, enters Ballerina 2 with weights and a mask. Dancer and Ballerina 1 sees her....light fades)

[stephanshortstories]

The Failed Dinner Date

There once was a husband who wanted to make the best dinner for his wife. He looked up all the recipes to her favorite foods, and even decorated the whole house! He bought her favorite music to play in the background and handcrafted a beautiful invitation to her weeks in advance. Everything was going to go right. It was going to be a perfect night.

But as the time came, things went awfully wrong. While preparing for dinner, he got the food burnt and the timing of everything went haywire. Decor fell apart, flowers came wilted and he was thoroughly embarrassed. He kept apologizing to his wife but his wife kept replying that it was alright. She was touched that he would go through all this trouble for her. She loved it. But the husband absolutely refused to hear it. He told her, she's just being nice. He insistently described how it was supposed to be and continued to apologize. Soon the wife started to cry. Shocked, the husband asked, “What’s wrong?”

"You're hurting me." Her teary eyes met his. "Don't you believe me when I'm telling you I love this? Don't you love me enough to trust me?"

[stephanshortstories]

We’re Done For

There was once a penguin who lived in her penguin village. She was a quiet kind of penguin that liked to watch her fellow penguins play, work and talk. Her name was Penny. 

When other penguins asked why she was just standing on the side, Penny told them it simply made her feel happy to see her fellow penguins going about their business and being happy. Secretly, Penny  had another reason she just wanted to watch others--- Penguin had a misshapen leg that caused her to have an extra bounce to her step. She was deeply aware of her deformity and to hide it, she preferred not to move around if she didn’t have to. 

From her corner, she saw everyone in the penguin village walk by according to their schedule; the young penguins would waddle and talk their way to class at 8, the mother penguins would rush to the market at 10, the postal penguin would mumble to himself as he fumbled his way at 1, the carpenter penguins all marched back home together talking about their schedules and design plans once the clock turned 5 and so on.  But the penguin Penny most looked forward to seeing each day was little Alberta. Alberta was a child penguin and got along well with Penny, due to the fact that they both had a small disability. One of Alberta’s wings, you see, was smaller than the other. Around others, they each could feel the eyes watching them, like they were some fascinating zoo exhibit. But together, Alberta and Penny felt like they could be their normal selves, each sharing stories and laughter about their day. And every day, it would be the same routine. And every day they loved it.

One day, however, Penny noticed one of the carpenter penguins missing from the afternoon group. She thought maybe he got sick and is just staying in bed. Maybe he’s visiting another penguin village. Maybe he’s fixing something at his house? And while most wouldn’t think much of it, Penny found that it bothered her too much; she didn’t hear the carpenter penguin ever mention anything that would cause him to not come out like every this week. As the days went by, other penguins also started to disappear and the village started to get nervous. “There must be something wrong!” they call exclaimed. “Someone must find out who did this!” Penny heard and wondered if she should do anything. But why could she possibly do? There were many other penguins who were awesome and brave. Surely, they can go! And after all, Penny had a deformed leg. She would be a liability on such a mission…wouldn’t she be? Soon one morning, other penguins finally gathered in the village square because enough was enough. They started to make plans and said “We will hold a contest! Whoever is the smartest or strongest will find out what is happening!” The whole penguin village murmured in agreement- except for Penny. “This is silly.” she thought, “I’ve seen this talk happen before. It’ll take them days to figure out something.” And so, while the whole village argued and brainstormed which contest they should hold, Penny decided to remain in her corner and hope for the best. Suddenly, there was a bloodcurdling scream that raised the feathers of every penguin in the city square.

Penny turned her head around to see Alberta’s mother, bloody and panting. Her eyes were filled with sheer terror as she stumbled her way toward the penguin gathering. “They’re gone! My husband and little girl are GONE.” Some of the penguins immediately rushed to her aid and caught her as she collapsed to the floor. They tried calming her, asking her to think coherently and breathe; but Penny would have none of it. Without thinking of her awkward waddling, Penny rushed as fast as she could to little Alberta’s home. Alberta? Gone???? It CAN’T BE.

As Penny got closer to the Alberta’s house, she found herself slowing down and hesitating to get any closer. Penguins don’t visit each other’s houses, as it was deeply considered rude. But deep down, she knew there was something else making her hesitate; she had become self-conscious in her awkward bouncing, and slowing down only made it more evident. She quickly turned her head around to scan if anyone could see her but caught herself. What? What are you thinking? There’s no time to be so vain! Alberta’s in trouble!

As she was thinking this, Penny noticed a rather old guinea pig near the latest missing penguin’s house. “Is he trying to steal the penguin’s things while she’s missing???” she thought. Penny ran over and shouted “HEY! YOU BETTER NOT BE STEALING ANYTHING!” The old guinea pig turned around and looked at her as if he didn’t hear anything Penny just said. “Do you know what happened here?” he asked while pointing at the broken window of the Alberta’s house. 

“No, no one does” answered Penny, still clearly suspicious. “Everyone only goes to the village and never visit each other’s houses. It’s not considered respectful.”

“MMmmm, your penguin village may be in more trouble than you all realize.” said the Old Guinea Pig. “This looks like the work of a vampire penguin��

“A vampire penguin???”

“Yes. I’ve only seen the work of one many years ago. They break through the windows and birdnap penguins and their eggs.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of them before”

“That’s because we have protected villages like yours for ages.”

“We?” 

The Old Guinea Pig opened his jacket to reveal a small badge on his chest. “We are the secret guardians of the villages, protectors of all animals, and agents of ---” The Old Guinea Pig stopped short, clutching his back. “Wait, if it’s considered disrespectful to visit other penguin’s houses, why are YOU here?”

“Because I want to find out what’s going on and stop it.” Penny answered. “I’m…I’m basically a watcher of the village and I’ve been noticing when penguins had gone missing from the beginning…and I wanted to help a friend…“ Penny turned her heard toward the window. Through it, she could see the inside of a child’s room, Alberta’s room, tossed around and empty.

“Tell me. Do you really wish to help? Or do you only want to find out what’s happening? Many confuse one for the other.” 

Penny took a pause to reflect on what Old Guinea Pig just said. “Yes. I mean, I’ve got to. Alberta’s the only one who understands me.”

“If you truly wish to help, then you’ll need this” The Old Guinea Pig gave her a long sharp sword, made of something pale. “To stop a vampire penguin, you need to whack its head with this. The sword is made of whale bone and has magical properties. With it, you can put him in a vegetative state forever and render him harmless. Take this light stone as well. It will illuminate your path in dark places.” As the Penny received the whale bone, the Old Guinea Pig continued “You must also go and find an underwater cave. That is where the vampire penguins like to hide because it makes it hard for guinea pigs like me to find them.”

“I know where to find one nearby. Children penguin were never allowed to play near it. I can go ther---- wait a minute, it sounds like you’re leaving this to me? Aren’t you coming?” 

“No, I cannot” answered the Old Guinea Pig. “I am getting too old and it’s already hard for guinea pigs to swim underwater. Also, many of my fellow guinea pigs have been missing too, and I must search for them.” 

“Could they have been taken by the Vampire Penguin?” asked Penny. 

“Unlikely. vampire penguins only like to take penguins as his victim. But go! If you really do not want another penguin to disappear tonight, you should go and find the underwater cave at once!”

And so, given this newfound knowledge and tools, Penny began her journey to the nearby lake, where she knew there was the underwater cave. 

As Penny approached the edge of the lake, there were already tell-tale signs that things were not right. All around the lake were dead leaves and the water itself looked still as ever. It appeared so black, Penny couldn’t see the bottom, even with the sun still shining overhead. Even the trees gave off the impression that they were avoiding the lake by their distance from the lake’s shore and how their trunks turned away from its waters. The lone exception was a singular rotting tree on the lake’s edge. 

She stared into the water, contemplating whether or not if anything was even down there when SUDDENLY, she heard loud rustling in the bush next to her. 

Penny turned and froze. This was the first she had ever walked this far from the village and now she was facing something she would never dared to imagine. As she clenched her wing, she immediately remembered the whale bone in her hand and held it out in front her...and waited. 

The rustling had stopped. She waited and waited as if playing some waiting game and wanted to win. Eventually, she started to wonder whether she had really heard anything at all...but the bush moved again. 

It dawned on Penny that perhaps she could scare whatever it was away and so she took three steps forward and waved the whale bone around in front of her, being careful of course to position herself to run if she needed to. As she did the bush rustled again and a HUGE black bumpy frog leaped out of the bush. 

This of course made Penny scream all the louder as her body froze and the frog just stared at her.

“WHO ARE YOU?” Penny demanded. 

The frog stared at her. 

“…you dont belong here…” 

The deep yet quiet voice sounded like it came from the frog but the frog didnt move in the slightest. 

“…you dont belong here…”

Penny had no idea what to do. 

“…you dont belong HERE…” as the voice said it for the third time, the frog leaned over and then pounced at Penny. Penny tried to move away but instead tripped on her deformed foot, letting the frog leap on her with its wet slimy hands, knocking her to the ground before disappearing into the lake, laughing as it did. 

Penny yelped and felt disgusted as she watched the splash of the frog. Now Penny really didnt want to enter the lake. What was that? What if it attacks her? What if she drowns? What if it comes back? Moments passed as Penny racked her brain trying to figure out how she was going to do. Suddenly, an idea came to mind. Penny approached the lake and began smashing her whale bone into the lake, hoping that the splashing and the noise will make the frog leave the water--hopefully on another side of the lake. As she continued to smash the bone into the lake, anger began to build. She was angry that she couldn’t stop the frog. She was angry the townspeople always took so long to do anything. Wasn’t there better more qualified penguins? What did it have to be her? And most of all, she was angry at her deformed foot. In that brief moment of frustration, she tried hitting the water as harder than before! And when she did, the bone slipped straight out of her hand and into the middle of the lake. 

Penny froze in shock at what he had done. She had barely any time to consider her next move when the lake began to bubble and the heads of twenty frogs burst the lake’s surface and began swimming in her direction. Penny began to run, but her misshapen leg greatly slowed her down. Looking around quickly, she quickly wobbled toward the closest thing to her, the rotting tree and climbed onto one of its naked branches. 

The frogs assembled at the base of the tree and started jumping and knocking it with their bodies, making the tree shake as they did so. With each thump, Penny could feel the tree shake more until the whole tree started to sway and fall toward the lake! 

Penny used the momentum of the fall to execute a dive; she may be a lousy runner, but at least she was a good swimmer. To her shock, she found that she could perceive her surroundings with more visibility than she thought. Penny swam as quickly as she could, trying to keep ahead of the frogs before they could get back into the lake. Her mind raced “If I go to the shore, they’ll catch up with me again since I’m a bad runner. Maybe I could lose them in the lake’s darkness”. Penny almost begged for the plan to work and immediately began to swim toward the lake’s underwater dropoff, where ranks of vegetation provided the ideal hiding spot. As she did, she saw the swarm of frogs swim by overhead, but she knew she couldn’t stay there long.

She tried slipping further in the dark but then felt a strange pull toward the dropoff cliff. She paused. Curious, Penny began following the water’s pull and before she knew it, had entered an underwater cave. Penny swam around the corner and broke the water surface. She looked up and found herself inside a large cavern. She began to step slowly out of the water and onto the cavern shore, but stopped when she realized it only got darker further in. Whatever light there was in the cave came from the water that reflected what was left of the day’s sun. 

“Wait! What was that other thing the Old Guinea Pig gave me again? She reached and took out the light stone, which now glowed with a strong yellow hue. She could see that the cave was rounded out and wet and led further underground. Realizing how vulnerable she was, Penny felt stuck. If she went back the way she came from, she would have to face the frogs. If she continued forward, she would have nothing but the stone to guard herself. Penny decided to move forward but cautiously as she did. She reasoned that if she did see any threat, she could turn around and swim away from the lake. Exploring the cave further would also give the frogs some time to give up on finding her. 

She journeyed further in for several minutes, when two things happened. One, the stupidity of the plan hit her. She was going into a cave with a potential vampire penguin, who could do who knows what to her and all she has is a shining rock?? But the thought didn’t quite last as long because a deep clear voice broke the silent darkness. 

“So you’ve come.”

Penny froze like she did before but she still could not see anyone. Carefully, she stepped closer in. She found that the floor gave way to a huge chasm and on the other side, sitting on some throne, was...the vampire penguin!!!

Penny could see his dark outline, glinting eyes and shining teeth that stuck out from his beak. The vampire penguin was smiling and sitting, seemingly amused. 

“Why did you come all this way? If I knew you were so eager to meet me, I would have come to you myself in the village tonight as I am awakened and empowered by the rise of the full moon. I AM THE VAMPIRE PENGUIN”

“With the rise of the full moon? Shouldn’t you be called a were-penguin instead?” Penny asked seemingly confused. 

“Who ever heard of a were-penguin before? That’s ridiculous. But we digress. I do love it when dinner is delivered!” 

And with that, the vampire penguin charged forward, flapping its wings as he did and successfully flew over the chasm! 

“Or you can join and become like me. All it takes is a drop of vampire venom, it doesnt hurt at all, mwuhahaha!”

But Penny has wasted no time trying to run back into the water, but with terrifying speed, the vampire penguin suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Nuh, uh! Where do you think you’re going?” he said with a grin.

Penny screamed, smacking the vampire face with her light stone as she did. The vampire stumbled back, blinded by the light. She continued to run for the water.

As she reached it, Penny looked back to see the vampire penguin after her, although doing so a slowly. 

“Mwuhaha, I love it when my food plays games. Run little penguin, run! Oh, what bounce you have! I know you can’t run with that silly leg. Come, let me fix it for you. All it takes is a drop of my venom, mwuhahaha” taunted the vampire penguin. 

Penny reached the water edge again, and dove deep,  jet streaming through the water as she did. Everything was darker, but the full moon was definitely up and managed to illuminate the lake enough for her to see.  As she swam toward shore, she managed to spy something glowing on the lake bottom-- it was the whale sword! 

Grabbing it from the floor as she swam by, Penny then swerved in an upward direction, leaping out of the water  as she did so and landed on the fallen rotten log. Just as she turned around, the vampire penguin also leaped into the air, its eyes beaming red while its smiling teeth flashed in the moonlight. It hovered over the water for a brief second and flew straight toward Penny. There was nowhere to run now and in a last minute fit of desperation, she whipped out the whale sword, pointing it directly toward the vampire’s head. Vampire penguin had no chance to respond, save the vanish of his smile, and dove head first onto the whale sword, impaling itself as it did so. It fell with a thud and lay there, motionless. 

Penguin tried to catch her breath, stunned at what happened. But at last, it was over! 

Later, one of the long sharp fangs of the vampire penguin was brought to the village square, where the Penny shared the story of all that had happened. The whole village cheered! And they congratulated the Penny for her remarkable display of bravery and for saving the village. Even the Old Guinea Pig was there, who thanked Penny for her heroic service. “It looks like you would make a great guardian of the villages yet”, he said with a smile, while clutching his back. “Was it hard to defeat him?”

“Well, it was scary for sure and it didn’t help that....” Penny stopped short. 

“Didn’t help that what?” asked the Old Guinea Pig. 

“Didn’t help that....it was the full moon.” The look realization dawned upon Penny’s face but no one seemed to have noticed except the Old Guinea Pig. 

“Oh? What about the full moon?” he asked. 

“The vampire penguin said he came out only during the full moon. So that still doesnt explain why penguins have been going missing every night...”

Penny looked at the Old Guinea Pig and was filled with horror. The once old kind eyes were fogged over, as if covered with some whitish film. The face that had once been regal and kind was now ragged and his mouth hung open while dripping profusely. His hand still clutched his back. 

“...I’m....I’m..so.. sorry...” his voice was quite obviously now course and fading and in between his sentences were filled with pants and pauses. “My fellow...guardians...were attacked long ago....a sickness spread among them...making them rabid and hungry....I trapped them and kept them busy...but if left hungry, the break out....so I had to birdnap penguins and their eggs...it was the only way to satisfy the horde and keep them from attacking the whole village...I had hoped I could find some cure as I...kept them busy...but I was bitten...”

The Old Guinea Pig lifted his hand from his back, revealing a bleeding wound. 

“I thought perhaps...that perhaps I could use the blood of the vampire penguin to...to create some sort of antidote while he was catatonic...... but now that he’s dead and rotting...*cough*”

The Old Guinea Pig stumbled and fell, seemingly using the last of his energy to hold himself up and lift his head.

“...I cannot stop them... they are not fed....they will break out.... you must flee...gfrmphssss”

The Old Guinea Pig began to choke and twitch violently and just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. 

The other penguins in the town square had been watching and listening by now. Some had heard what he said, while others were confused.

Suddenly, the body of the Old Guinea Pig got up and began growling like a wild dog. It lunged at the nearest penguin, trying to eat him as he did. Thinking quickly, Penny grabbed the whale bone and whacked the zombie guinea pig in the head. The hit sent the zombie guinea pig sprawling through the air and it landed, becoming still, rendered now harmless by the sword. 

But there was no time to celebrate. Rumbling can be felt and Penny immediately suspected the worst. A penguin from the roof screamed and pointed at the hill. Dark silhouette shapes began to rove from the top of it and as they peaked over it, the moonlight made it obvious to all what they were. Hordes of zombie guinea pigs were flooding over the hill and were all headed toward the village! Penguin villagers left and right started screaming for their life and trampled each other to get to the far side of the town. Others still closed their shutters, attempting to hide themselves from the oncoming horde of death.

While all of this was going on, Penny stood there facing toward the direction of the horde. She couldn’t just run- her deformed leg made sure of that. The zombie guinea pigs will destroy not only the town but hunt down those who were trying to flee. She could try and fight and make her last stand, but how many could she knock out before they swarmed her? Five? Ten max? She turned to look at the motionless zombie old guinea pig as if to think, but suddenly an idea came to mind.

“TO ME! TO ME!” Penny shouted at the top of her lungs, waving her whale sword as he did. Most of the penguins ignored her, but through the panicked crowd, Penny saw some stop and look at her.

“TO THE LAKE! TO THE LAKE!” Penny shouted again from the top of her lungs. Those who heard her understood immediately and began to follow her. As the small band of penguins left the village buildings, and into the field nearby, they could see more of the zombie guinea pigs charging down the hill toward the village itself.

“QUICK! GET THEIR ATTENTION!! GE THEIR ATTENTION!!” Penny yelled as she stopped running to pick up some rocks and throw them as far as she could toward the horde. Other did so as well, and began to throw them, but it succeeded in only catching only a five of the guinea pigs’ attention, who now changed course and ran down the hill to meet them-- The rest still however were still running toward the lights of the village.

Then in another stroke of genius, Penguin pulled out his light stone. The stone shone brightly in the dark field, like a star in a night sky. More of the horde now turned their heads toward the band and had changed course.

“RUN!” Penny knew it was without saying, but there was no time to think. As she ran, she could hear the snarls of the guinea pigs getting closer and closer still. Penny, who had been leading the charge, now noticed several of her fellow penguins had surpassed her …and her deformed foot. The only reason why she wasn’t dead last was because she had led run in the beginning, but that advantage was soon disappearing. Soon she saw the lake and as she did, she took a quick glance behind her. The last penguin in the band had tripped and turned his head up in time to lock eyes with Penny before screaming as the zombie guinea pigs bodies engulfed him.

She had no chance to help him. Penny herself barely reached the water as one zombie guinea pig lunged itself, snapping at her legs. In the water, the penguins now had the advantage and jet streamed through it with ease. They stopped in the middle of the lake and looked back, seeing swarms of the little monsters jumping into the water but many disappearing beneath the waves. “Guinea pigs don’t do well in waters” Penguin muttered, recalling what the Old Guinea Pig had said. The band continued to float in the middle of the lake, catching their breath while watching half of the horde drown themselves.

The penguins had barely time to smile at their victory when a far distance scream rang in the night sky. From the middle of the lake, they could see rising smoke that glowing orange from what only could be flames. The scream reached the ears of the other half of undead guinea pigs.  They slowly began turning around and toward the orange flames. No doubt some of the zombie pigs made it to the village, had wreaked havoc causing fires and now the rest began turning from the lake toward it too.

“What are we going to do? There’s still so many and we can’t stop them all” some of the penguins with Penny murmured. But Penny would not give up. She had come too far to see everything and everyone she love perish now. Was there anything that could be done to stop the horde? Some tool she could use? Some magic that could work? Someone who could help?

As Penny thought more, an idea came to her mind—an idea so shocking and painful, she shunned it from her mind. And yet, it lingered. Even as there was no guarantee it could work, it was the only idea left. The only possibility.

Penny swam toward the rotten log and stepped over to the dead body of the vampire penguin. Words all she had been told echoed in her mind. … All it takes is drop of vampire venom…

Penny closed her eyes. There wouldn’t be a guarantee that she would remain sane. And anyway, she was safe now, isn’t she? She has tried and has done enough to help, right? She and others could run away and warn other villages…and forever be running…but...

Penny looked down and saw her deformed foot. The same foot that kept her at a corner for years. The same foot that slowed her down. The same foot that tripped her. The same foot that made her stand her ground in times when others, including her, would have and wanted to run. The same foot that allowed her to bond with Alberta.

I wasn’t made to run from danger. I was made to care for those in danger’s way.

And with that, Penny held the head of the vampire penguin and injected herself with its other fang. At once, she could feel the changes rippling through her body. She could feel the light of the full moon energizing her body. She could feel her deformed leg grow and fix itself and power flow into her wings.

With a mini sonic boom, Penny launched into the air, now endowed with the full abilities of a vampire penguin. Bathing herself in moonlight, she looked down at the burning village and rocketed toward the square. She landed with the power of a fifty thunder bolts, smashing the pavement as she did. The zombie guinea pigs had barely time to react as each were whacked in the head with the whale bone, and rendered unconscious. More of the horde took notice of the action and scrambled toward her. Filled with the vampire speed, Penny countered each and every single one of them. Even as there were no more active zombies left in the square, she sped throughout the village, seeking out each infected guinea pig, whacking them in the head and rendering them helpless. Hours later, Penny had knocked out the last infected guinea pig and stood in the square, tired but triumphant.

The other penguins slowly came out from their hiding places. Some looked upon Penny with fear, wondering what this new creature that stood before them would now want. Still, some others began to cheer. Penny managed to crack a smile when one lone groan could be heard.

Everyone fell silent.

Penny swiftly turned around and raised her whale sword, ready for anything. Slowly, the groaning creature stepped out of a village building, revealing a small penguin child. Her eyes were covered in a whitish film and her mouth trembled and foamed. Part of her right wing was bitten off, revealing a nasty infection that was obviously taking hold.

Everyone felt silent and looked again at Penny and the young penguin; one was an empowered behemoth with a sword and the other, a wandering pitiful infected child.

She could of course, whack this kid. But what would that prove to everyone? How would they see her afterwards? But maybe that doesn’t matter? They’re all food anyway. All foooood….

Penny shook her head to snap out of it. She didn’t notice it until now, but the hunger of the vampire was getting to her, which created another issue. Would she be the next monster of the village? Even after she saved everyone, she may not be able to save them from herself…

Words again began echoing in Penny’s mind;

… I could use the blood of the vampire penguin to...to create some sort of antidote...said the Old Guinea Pig.

And with that, Penny extended her wing to the young child, who almost immediately, grabbed it and began to bite. It took all the restraint Penny could muster NOT to smack the child and run away. As her blood spilled into the child’s mouth, it stopped biting. In fact, its heavy breathing began to return to normal and her eyes began to be filled with color again. Penny saw before her, not a zombie penguin, but a living child with a damaged wing. She looks like Alberta…

“How did you know you wouldn’t have turned too?”

Penny turned around to find other town-penguins gathering.

“I didn’t. But I was prepared should anything happen.” She answered, glancing down at her whale sword.

Penny turned her head around to survey the damage. Littered around were broken buildings and catatonic guinea pigs. Bruised and battered penguins were walking about, calling to each and other and helping others up. Most of the fires had gone out, but the sky still glowed slightly orange; and Penny realized why.

“The sun is rising. I need to leave!” she urgently announced. The crowd backed away from her as she prepared to fly back to the underwater cave when someone asked a question that stopped her dead in her tracks;

“But what if there’s more infected?”

“We need you here”

Penny turned around, seeing the looks of concern and murmuring spread among the penguins. She looked at the young healed penguin, now crying in her mother’s wings.

There’s no running now…

The thought made her smile, appreciating what her once deformed leg now taught her.

Facing the crowd, Penny announced. “Then I won’t leave. But I also won’t stay.” Seeing confused looks, Penny continued, “This whale sword has the ability to render any creature it whacks into a comatose state. With it, I can place myself in a permanent coma, allowing you to draw my blood to heal the infected. The magic should keep me that way, even when the sun is out…”

The crowd was silent. Some voiced objections and alternative solutions, but deep down, Penny knew this was the only way. Any other approach may also leave her a vampiric threat to the village in the future.

And with that, Penny gave one last look at the penguins she’s watched for years. She remembered their laughs and routines, events and conversations. She took a deep breath and raised her sword near her head, and gave a final look at the now recovered child penguin and her damaged wing.

I’ll dream of you, Alberta…

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A year later, the penguins gathered again in the square, though not to talk about their missing neighbors, but to celebrate their village’s recovery. Buildings had been rebuilt, businesses were once again open.  Children with their parents walked in the street and even the mail-penguin had a day off. There was even a naming ceremony and statue unveiling. The village square was being renamed “Penny’s square” and in the center was a statue of Penny, though not as a vampire, but as she was before; a watcher of the village, deformed foot and all. And there, she continued to keep watch over the village, even to this day.