fictwrig6 Minerva

Minerva

by Will Wright

Minerva’s belly was full. She wasn’t a kit any longer. She had to hunt for herself. It was good to feel satisfied.
Her den was far away, and she was sleepy. The night was cold and windy. Foxes have thick fur, but she wanted to find a warm place to sleep.
She found a small den. She sniffed at the opening. There was a badger inside. A badger will not share a den with a fox.
Two coyotes were in the dry creek bed. They were curled together. They looked warm. She missed her kit mates. It was warmer sleeping together.
A rabbit hopped by. The rabbit saw Minerva and hopped faster. Minerva wasn’t hungry; she was cold. She let the rabbit go.
There was a clearing. It wasn’t like she remembered. The trees were gone. Now there were only stumps.
Minerva spied the trees. They were all lying down in a pile on something tall and hard. The thing smelled strange. It looked dangerous.
The trees looked warm in that tight pile. She would be comfortable if she burrowed into the trees. Her den was far away. She could be cozy right here.
She jumped up on the tall thing, and burrowed into the trees. She was warm. She fell asleep.
After a while, Minerva woke up. Something was wrong. The trees were shaking. There were strange sounds coming from the tall thing. It smelled like fire!
She climbed to the top of the pile of trees. It was difficult. Everything was shaking. The wind was blowing. It didn’t feel like any wind she’d felt before.
The pile was moving. It was going very fast and taking her with it. How could a pile of trees run faster than a fox? The tall thing must be a beast—a beast that smelled of fire.
Other beasts like the one that held the trees moved around the pile. The near ones ran with the pile, like wolves run in a pack. The far ones ran past them, going the other way.
They were loud and smelled like fire. Each one had large eyes that spread light like the moon in front. They had smaller red eyes in back.
Minerva wanted to jump. She wanted to run away. She wanted to find her den. She was frightened.
The pile of trees ran too fast. She couldn’t jump. She burrowed back in the pile. What else could she do?
She didn’t like the noise. She didn’t like the rumbling. She didn’t like the smell of fire. But, she was warm in the pile. She went to sleep.
Minerva woke up. The pile had stopped running. She climbed to the top of the trees. The running beasts were still near. Their eyes were open but the moonlight wasn’t shining out.
The stars were very close. They hung from trees and steep hillsides all around her. Most of the stars were white. Some were red or green or blue.
“Merry Christmas,” an animal barked. She had seen one of these animals before. It was a human. They were dangerous to foxes.
Minerva jumped from the pile. “Look, a fox,” barked another human. “Call animal services.”
Minerva ran. The hills were tall and in every direction. They were too steep to climb. Narrow valleys ran between the hills.
Everywhere she went, Minerva saw more steep hills. Humans were everywhere. So were the running beasts, some with moon lights shining, but most without.
There were trees. Trees only grew in the valleys. Each tree was by itself, far from other trees.
There were animals too. There were squirrels and birds. There were animals that reminded her of coyotes, but they were different.
There were cats. There were almost as many cats as humans. The cats didn’t like her but they left her alone.
“There it is,” a human barked. Minerva heard a bang. There was a tooth in her side. She ran in a circle to see her attacker but couldn’t find one. She fell asleep.
Minerva awakened. She was in the clearing. There were stumps all around. A human was nearby.
“Merry Christmas, little vixen,” barked the human. He walked away to a running beast. The beast made a roar. Moonlight shone from its eyes.
She was in the woods again. There were no more tall hillsides and narrow valleys. The trees grew in clumps.
Above her, the stars were far away. Only one was a little red. There were no cats. The running beast went away.
Now she knew the human greeting bark. It was, “Merry Christmas.” They didn’t harm her, but she didn’t want to see them again.
Minerva started walking. She was walking back to her den. She decided it wasn’t so far away after all.

ficthaus4 Toto in Munchkinland

Toto in Munchkinland

by Headley Hauser

The house never used to move like that. At least Toto didn’t think it moved that way, but he spent all of his time with Dorothy, and she wandered around outside singing a lot, so he couldn’t be sure. This was a lot like being in the basket when the bad dog rode on her bicycle over the rocky, hilly road, except that now he didn’t see any way to jump out.

Crash!

Well, there wasn’t till now.

“Oh, Toto,” said Dorothy, “look at all the colors!”

What was a color? Dorothy was the love of his life, but Toto could never understand this thing she had about colors. Then she completely ignored the most interesting smells.

Dorothy was a very strange dog.

What was this? Toto ran out of the house and around to the side. There was something under the house – something either newly dead or just dying. It was the foulest, nastiest smell he’d ever smelled in his life. Was it food? Maybe he should roll in it.

He’d better check with Dorothy.

“Dorothy!” Toto barked, “You gotta come smell this dead thing!”

“Toto,” said Dorothy, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

Talk about changing the subject! Sometimes it seemed like Dorothy just wasn’t listening.

Dorothy went around looking at flowers while Toto sniffed for really interesting things. Of course, the dead thing was pretty hard to ignore, but Toto wasn’t a puppy anymore. He knew how to sniff for little things. There weren’t many things to smell, no rabbits or squirrels or even those bag things with all the hard kibble in them. Unless that dead thing was food, they might be in trouble.

But there were dogs – lots of them. They smelled different than Dorothy, but so did Toto. Dogs came in all kinds of scents. Dorothy was so busy looking for colors that she didn’t even smell the pack.

Toto wasn’t worried. The pack smelled like they were afraid. Toto gave a growl to show them that they had reason to fear. Three dogs smaller than Dorothy and a big bitch with white fur came out of the weeds so Dorothy could see them. Toto prepared for a fight.

They just talked. They didn’t even growl, but at least they showed Dorothy respect.

The pack showed Dorothy the dead thing under the house. They didn’t say it was food, so Toto lost interest and went around marking the small trees that didn’t smell like real trees at all.

It was too easy. No dogs had marked any of them.

“What’s wrong with you dogs!” Toto barked.

Dorothy giggled like Toto had made a joke and held out her arms. Toto jumped into her arms. She never understood the things he tried to tell her, but she was nice and warm.

They talked some more – not about food or territory or anything useful. They talked about witches and a wizard. Unless they were the witches and wizard of food, Toto didn’t care.

Then it got weird.

Everybody started saying, “Follow the yellow brick road.” They said it over and over again. Even Dorothy said it. Dorothy started walking while saying, “Follow the yellow brick road.” She motioned for Toto to follow her.

Toto followed. He always followed Dorothy. He loved Dorothy.

“But when do we eat?” barked Toto.

“And what’s yellow?”

fictwrig5 The Isle of Figgamaroo

The Isle of Figgamaroo

by Will Wright

’Twas my first voyage

And a fine voyage too

Bound with six others

For Figgamaroo

There was Narli and Parlie

And Otter and Barry

Gastro, the ship’s cook

And old Captain Harry

With me as their seventh

A cabin boy true

In search of the island

Of Figgamaroo

Our cargo was taffy

And three kinds of jade

Fish hooks and teacups

That we hoped to go trade

For the finest of riches

That your thoughts could construe

Found no-where on earth

But Figgamaroo

Gastro would serve us

Goose eggs on a platter

Which he’d cook mixed with shell

Said the Captain, “No matter

For there’s oat-cakes and gumbo

With jelly-drop goo

When we get to the Island

Of Figgamaroo”

Thin Parlie, our lookout

With knots was quite handy

To the deck he’d drop wrappers

From sugar-free candy

To the captain he shouted

(Quite a hullabaloo)

“There’s a storm lies between us

And Figgamaroo”

So Barry struck mainsail

While Narli checked jump

And Otter went ’lo decks

To clean out the sump

And Gastro, now queasy

Cried, “What shall we do?”

“Sail through her,” said Harry

“To Figgamaroo”

I admit that I doubted

As I tied myself fast

The winds were so calm

Not a creak from the mast

Then the softest of whispers

Like an eerie preview

Made me wish for the safety

Of Figgamaroo

The change was so sudden

A bare minute was all

From the lightest of breezes

To a full-blown sea squall

There was thunder and lightning

As our deck was blown skew

I despaired ever seeing

Fair Figgamaroo

The waves were so mighty

That they fell from the sky

Dropping down a great sea bass

Looking me in the eye

The wind tore from us flotsam

Even my own left shoe

I clung to rope, and to hope

Of Figgamaroo

The salty spray whipped us

Making everything wet

From the top of the mainmast

To the cook’s shell omelet

But Narli stood bravely

Tight the sheet line she drew

As our ship struggled onward

To Figgamaroo

Just as I figured

Our ship couldn’t last

The waves ceased to tip us

As the storm rushed on past

And I saw Barry dancing

As the bowline he threw

To the merry inhabitants

Of Figgamaroo

The natives, Trifoggles

Saw with three eyes apiece

Their pets, furboggles

Had luxuriant fleece

They handed us shells

Full of mackarine stew

They treat sailors kindly

On Figgamaroo

There was bo-bread with berries

And fru-fruit, cut fine

And we washed it all down

With cocopop wine

“Not nearly,” griped Gastro,

“As good as shell almondu”

But no one agreed

There on Figgamaroo

They gave us dessert

Parlie his stomach pattening

Asked wasn’t there something

A little less fattening?

The Trifoggles looked puzzled

The Furboggles barked, “Woo?”

They like their sweets rich

There on Figgamaroo

Barry went hopping

Through the tickle-me heather

Narli twisted a headdress

Made of fling-a-bye feather

“Now to business,” said Harry

As he put down his brew

“Will you trade with me here

On Figgamaroo?”

They showed us nuzguzzles

And twoops of laparnet

And intricate cozmulles

Encrusted with garnet

For this they asked taffy

That they so love to chew

For taffy, they’re daffy

On Figgamaroo

A groan came from Otter

Whose job was to save

Our cargo from damage

From leak or from wave

For the taffy was sodden

’Cause the sea had soaked through

“It’s great,” said the natives

Of Figgamaroo

Now I’ve been all over

By boat, ship and liner

And I’ve always loved travels

But there never was finer

Than that trip of discovery

When Harry’s old crew

Traded salt water taffy

On Figgamaroo.