A One-Eyed Dinner at my Uncle's

The floorboard creaked, and I sat up straight in bed. There, standing with it's back to me was the biggest dog I had ever seen. I stifled a scream. What should I do? It would turn around soon, and then it would kill me, I was sure. It was sniffing through my suitcase that I had left open on my floor. Great, its got my scent, now I can't run. I had to do something before it turned around. It was too late, and as it turned, I noticed to things at once, one it only had one eye, and two, it was...smiling? It jumped up on my bed, knocking me flat,  and pointed its nose at my throat.

You can imagine my surprise when it started licking me instead of maiming my face. It was friendly, alright, but it was still big and its paws were crushing my chest. "Get off!" I told it severely. It whined a second before obeying, jumping off my bed altogether. But a moment later, its nose was back again, sniffing my face and whining. I noticed the sun was up, so I decided to get up. Pushing the dog's nose aside, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stretched. I had gotten in late last night., so I was a little stiff.

I was visiting my uncle for a few weeks, at my mothers insistence, and already I knew I would hate it here. The house was entirely made of wood, wooden walls, wooden floors wooden furniture. There was no paintings to adorn the walls, no carpets, and no cushions on the chairs. Not to mention I had just been attacked by his monster mutt.

After dressing I went downstairs to see how good my uncles cooking was, and to my dismay, he had left a note on the table, saying he had already left for work, and I would have to 'forage my own breakfast'. The dog had tagged along and was wagging his tail behind me.

"What are we going to do boy?" He wagged his tail harder."I could eat you I suppose, and kill two birds with one stone." Great, I was reduced to talking to a one-eyed dog. And now I'm thinking of eating him. Am I that desperate?

I didn't know, but this was going to be a long visit.

Writing Prompts

1. If I were invisible for a day I would move things around on people, and also sneak around the halls climbing on stuff I wasn't supposed to.
2. My name is a secret but fellow blogs call me Emerald ring because that is who I am on this blog.
4. If I had only twenty four hours left on earth, I would do stuff I had always dreamed of doing, and say good bye to everyone I could think of.

Hitting with my Best Shot

           I eyed the blood-red yarn with disdain.It blocked me. Fencing in marbles that could be mine if only I could get them out of its seemingly insignificant perimeter. I chose my shooter carefully, a medium glass marble with a smooth surface and flashy colors of red, yellow, and green. Kissing it for luck, I aimed it carefully with my thumb, and catapulted it into the mine field of marbles. Ricocheting against them, it made the smaller marbles retreat from the yarn circle with terrifying speed. When it finally stopped in the center, a gaping hole stood where there used to be a huge mass. I cheered and gathered the marbles I had won into my lap. Grabbing my shooter marble, I pumped my fist in the air and yelled with triumph.

It was a Dark and Stormy Night...

     "It was a dark and stormy night, we were all sitting around a campfire, when someone asked me to tell a story, and so it began," our camp leader, Leader Luke, as we called him, cleared his throat. "It was a dark and stormy night, we were all sitting around a campfire, when someone asked me to tell a story an-"
     "Hey! Your just saying the same thing over and over!" I told him insultingly. "Tell us a real story!"
     Our camp leader laughed. "My Grandpa told that one to me when I was a kid. It took me a while before I figured it out."
     "I've got another one," said Tom, straightening a little "Pete and Repeat were on a bridge, Pete fell off, so who was left?"
     "Poor Pete," Muttered Zoe, the kindhearted one.
     "That's easy, the person left was Repeat." I flushed proudly.
      Tom started again "Pete and Repeat were on a bridge, Pete fell off, so who was left?"
     "Repeat!" I had already said that, why was he asking again?
     "Pete and Repeat were on a-"
     "All right quit it, we all get what your saying." Rob rolled her eyes as he talked. "Can we have smores now?"
     Leader Luke looked up from the flames. "Sure, why don't you guys go find some good roasting sticks, and I'll get the marshmellows."
     Soon, we all had three or four smores in our belly, and were tucked soundly in our sleeping bags, Zoe and I in one tent, Tom and rob in another, and Leader Luke in the third. I was almost asleep when Zoe asked,
     "Where's Drizzle? She usually sleeps with me," Her eyes looked round and scared.
     Where was she?  We realized that we would have to go outside and find Drizzle, our black lab. We both picked up our flashlights and put on our coats and shoes, then stepped into the night. We flicked on our flashlights, and beamed them around the trees looking for Drizzle's camoflaged black shape. We didn't see her. Then we took a deep breath and stepped outside the clearing.
     "Drizzle!" We yelled into the night, but we heard no answering bark. Suddenly, we heard something crashing through the woods behind us, and then a hand reached out, grabbing my shoulder and twisting me around. It was...Leader Luke.
     "What are you girls doing?"
     "W-We-We were looking for Drizzle!" I sttuttered slowly.
     "She's lost," Zoe added.
      Luke sighed. "OK, how about you girls go sleep in your tent, and I'll look for Drizzle."
     "OK," together, we trooped back to our tent, which seemed farther away than it was before. When we finally got back to our tent, we zipped the flap, turned on our flashlights, and sat up the rest of the night, afraid to sleep without our beloved dog.

The Moonrise Will Come.

       Rising above the horizon, I looked down on the Okanagan Valley. I was in a silver fullness tonight, spreading my white light into the shadows the sun had left behind. Humming along to myself, I listened to the wolves’ song to me. The wolves always cheered me up because they were the only ones to love me. Everyone else slept while I spread my beauty on the world.  

Either that or they did ill doing. Stealing, trespassing, vandalizing. Bus stations were being robbed of luggage, and souvenir shops ransacked. Was it my fault that they did that? Just because they were hidden in the cover of the night, did that mean I was responsible?

I never gave them ideas to do these things, and I never encouraged them. Crimes happened in the day as well as the night, and id people ever blame the sun? No they worshipped the sun. They worshipped the sun and cursed the moon. The werewolf was said to be activated by me, but who made that up? Did they put at the end of the story; any mention of anyone in real life is completely coincidental? No, they didn’t, and everyone blamed me for something I never did. People hated me when they had to take the graveyard shift, and children cursed their bedtime. Nocturnal creatures are shunned for not living in the day, and are often blind and ugly.

If you have ever seen the man in the moon, you may notice he frowns. I am the man in the moon, but why did humans force their own image into me. Can I not just be me, the moon, without adding a man into it?Will there ever be a time where the night is dominant? A time when the world depends on me?

Red Roses, Blue Violets

New Rose

Roses are dead

Violets are blue

I need a new rose,

How about you?

Smart Valentine

Violets are blue

Rose’s thorns are sharp

If you didn’t know that

You’re not very smart

Sweeps Sorrow

That day. That cursed day changed my life. Changed my calling, changed my job. The day my parents died of fever, everything changed it seemed. I was made an adult far too soon, so they said. Maybe I was. I didn't know. It was normal to me, to all the sweeps. The older takes care of the younger. We all work to stay alive. We all clean the chimneys of London.

 "Emma, how much farther?" asked my brother Steven for the umpteenth time.

 Rather than answer I said, "We're almost there, Steven. Be patient." I truthfully didn't know where I was going. It was a searching day. I couldn't find any customers on the streets, so I looked for one on the roofs. It was summer though. No one used their fireplaces in the summer, except at night.

"Emma, it's hard to be patient, there's nothing to do, and I'm tired of walking." Steven complained.

"Then help me search.”

"What are we searching for?" I loved my little brother, but sometimes he asked too many questions. Rather than telling him what I was searching for, I gave him a more difficult task.

"Find a lady walking her dog," I told him. That ought to keep him busy, any madam of London worthy to be called a lady would be having tea about now. I checked yet another chimney. Nope, too clean.

Walking the ridgepole of a fairly steep roof, I checked one that was still warm. No, It must have been just cleaned. I heard a shout from Steven behind me and whirled around, afraid he had fallen.

 To my relief, he was balancing just fine, pointing at something in the street below. My eyes followed his finger and saw a well-clad woman strutting down the street with a very small dog.

"Found it, now what?" Steven asked impatiently.

“Now... find another sweep," This I actually wanted him to do, looking up at the horizon, I realized it was getting dark. We would have to find a place to sleep soon. I needed to find a sweep who knew the roofs around here to help us find a spot. We traveled along the ridgepoles for a long time. I finally called a halt, since the lamplighters were making their rounds below and my feet were too tired to stand. I settled Steven beside me and tried to sing him softly to sleep.

“I don't want to sleep... I'm hungry," Steven protested. I was hungry too, we had run out of supplies last night at supper, and we hadn't eaten since. I tried to ignore my stomach pains, but it was too hard, especially with Steven whining about his beside me.

There, at that very moment, I made a decision. I had always been taught not to steal. My parents told me it was wrong, the priest told me it was wrong, and the examples made of those who did it showed me it was wrong. For you, it may be a choice between stealing and not stealing, but for me, it was a choice between stealing and surviving. In a way, I had no choice.

           "Stay here," I told Steven. I slowly stood up, the weight of what I was about to do weighing me down, and then strode determinedly to the nearest chimney I could fit down. Sitting on top of it I dangled my legs down while tying my handkerchief around my mouth and nose. I took a few breaths of fresh air, and then started my decent. Jamming my feet in cracks in the sides and holding myself with my arms while switching feet.
          Finally, I touched bottom and was able to crawl out of the fireplace. I was black from head to toe, so I wiped my feet before treading on the plush carpet. I found my way to the kitchen, grabbed two bread rolls, then followed my tracks back to the fireplace. I was focusing so hard on my footprints, that I didn't notice the man in front of me until I bumped into his somewhat large belly and looked in alarm at his hard face.
          ”Filthy wretch!" He sneered at me, then noticing what I held in my hands, added. “And a stealing one at that!" Before I could move he grabbed my wrist and dragged me over to where a telephone hung on the wall. I squirmed, screamed and kicked, but then man had an iron grip on me as he called the police. After he hung up, he slapped me hard across the face. Stunned, I slumped silently to the floor.
          ”That’ll teach you!" He hissed, turning to face the door as we heard feet outside the door, which banged open to reveal to London constables. 
           They saw me and, seeing the ashes on my body, knew I was a chimney sweep. They didn't even talk to the man before one threw me over his shoulder and walked back into the street. "No, please!" I pleaded, but to no avail. I suddenly remembered Steven, huddling alone on the rooftop. "Steven! Steven, run!"
          His face, his innocent face, peered over the ledge of the roof. "Emma?" he asked. "Emma, where are they taking you? Emma, don't leave me, come back, please!"
          The constable carrying me was pushing me into a police carriage now, and I managed to scream one phrase before he shut the door and locked it. "I love you, Steven!"
          I still love him, and wonder about him, even locked up in the London jail. I wish more than ever that hunger had not driven me to that man's house, wish that I had paid attention and not got caught, and wish that I had been able to talk to Steven more before they took me. But I didn't, couldn't. I am Emma, a chimney sweep of London, and this is my life-long sorrow.

My Life is a Blurb

Is your life?

a)      So happy its boring, so you need to read this exciting book

b)      So sad its depressing, so you need to distract yourself with this book

c)       Full of demanding  teachers, so you need a book for your book report due tomorrow

d)      None of the above, you just need something to do.

e)      None of the above, you love reading

If you are one or more of the above, you should read this book. This isn’t some true story about all of my life’s woes, nor is it some grade one ditty about some child’s perfect life like Jane and her dog spot. I haven’t done anything heroic, haven’t broken any records, and haven’t made a new word in the dictionary. This book may sound boring, but it’s my life, and it sure wasn’t boring living it. I worked hard to make it happen the way it did, and I made some mistakes that you might find funny. But it’s my life. Respect it. Enjoy!