The Magic Unicorn-Chapter One

Chapter 1

Let me tell you a tale of a magic unicorn. I haven’t just named it ‘The Magic Unicorn’. I chose that name for a special reason. Shall I tell you the tale?

It all started with a girl called Rosie. She loved poetry and she also loved… magic! One day, she was walking in the mysterious forest. All around her were pretty birds and beautiful flowers.Rosie asked if should could stay in the forest for a little while. Her mum said, “Yes.”

But… a dark figure came up to her and cast a spell on poor Rosie. 

“W…w…why did you do that?” Rosie asked.

But the dark figure had gone away. Rosie went home and felt weird. And looked in the mirror and saw she was a unicorn.hhhhhhhhhhhh ! 

“I am a unicorn! Yay!” she cried.

Who knows what kind of adventures she could have as a unicorn? Come back soon to find out more… 

The Good Princess, the Bad Princess and the Knight

Once upon a time, there was a very bad person. Her name was Arabella. Do you know what her job was? She was a Princess who used her power for evil. She tried to get everyone to get rid of their lovely pets!

Miss Rose had loved her cat. One day, Arabella had crashed into Miss Rose’s house and said “Give me your cat!”

She was so mean and scary that Miss Rose ran away. After that, Arabella had got the cat. She took it to her palace so she could look after it herself. She would be the only person to have pets in the whole kingdom.

***

Francesca was an enchanted princess. In her hair was a magical clip which gave her the charm of love. She especially loved her lizard, Lucky. They always played together.

One night, along came the bad princess Arabella. She took the hair clip out of Francesca’s hair and now she didn’t have the charm of love. Then, she couldn’t remember Lucky. Arabella took Lucky. Arabella ran from the castle. As she ran, she dropped the hair clip.

The next morning, a knight was going to see his horse, Hercules. On the grass, he saw the clip. He picked it up. At that moment, Francesca walked along.

The knight said, “Is this your clip?”

Francesca said, “Yes.”

She put the clip back in her hair and remembered Lucky.

Francesca sobbed. When the knight asked what was wrong, she told him about Lucky. The knight agreed to help her search for Lucky. Francesca heard meowing and squeaking and ribbeting coming from Arabella’s palace.

“She must have taken Lucky!” Francesca said.

So, she and the knight set off to the palace to get the pets back.

They knocked on the door. Arabella shouted “Don’t come in!”

Luckily, the palace had a back door. It was open. So, Francesca and the knight tip-toed in. But Arabella jumped out and shouted “Stop!”

“We have come to tell you that the King has a pet!” Francesca said. “It’s a dolphin that lives in the smelly moat around the castle.”

“Ugh! I will go and take that dolphin away,” Arabella said. She stomped off to search the stinky brown water. But there was not a dolphin there at all. Francesca and the knight had tricked Arabella.

Now that Arabella had gone, Francesca and the knight got all the pets Arabella had taken. They took them back to their owners. Miss Rose was pleased to get her cat back. Lucky gave Francesca a hug.

As they made their way back to the castle, they saw Arabella in the moat. She was mucky and wet. Her beautiful dress was ruined and looked disgusting. Francesca held her nose. She show Arabella the clip. At last, Arabella understood love. After that, she agreed to become a nice Arabella.

The End

Jack and the Beastalk as told by Poppy

Once there was a boy. His name was Jack. He had a mum and dad and they had a cow called Daisy. One day, Jack had to go and sell Daisy. But Jack found a man standing on a road.

He said, “Where are you going?”

Jack said, “I am going to the market.”

“You don’t want to go to the market to sell your cow. You want some magic beans,” said the man.

Jack rushed home to tell his mum and dad. Mum and Dad were very angry. They opened the window and threw out the beans. Jack was sent to sleep.

The next day, when Jack woke up, he went to make mum and dad a cup of tea to say sorry. But he saw a giant beanstalk. He started to climb. He climbed and climbed from leaf to leaf. When he got to the top, he saw a huge castle. Jack knocked on the big door and an old woman called Poppy answered it.

“Oh, I am so hungry,” Jack said.

“Oh, my goodness,” the old lady, called Poppy, answered. She sent him in the castle. As he was so hungry, she made him some toast and butter.

She said, “Please eat it all up before my Ogre comes home.”

Jack ate and ate but the wife’s Ogre came home. There was big thunder bang, bang bang.

“Quick,” said the lady, “get in the freezer.”

There was a huge bang on the door but Poppy was too busy putting Jack in the freezer. Just in time, she let the ogre called Ben in.

Ben said, “Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. I’ll cook his bones to make my bread.”

Then he sat down and had his breakfast. He had a couple of smelly baby wipes (because ogres eat baby wipes).

Then Ben shouted, “Wife, bring me my harp.”

Poppy went to a secret room. She came back into the room. She had a harp. On the harp it said, ‘This belongs to Jack, Mumma and Dad.’

“Play me PJ Masks songs,“ said the ogre to the harp.

The harp played the songs.

“Wife, get me my golden hen,” shouted Ben.

The wife went off to the secret room again. She came back with a golden chicken and put it down on the table.

“Chicken, lay me a golden egg,” said the ogre.

The hen did it.

The harp said, “I am sorry I don’t know how to lay an egg.”

“Not you, harp!” the giant said.

Then the giant got fed up.

“Wife!” he shouted.

“Yes?”

“Bring me my money.”

So she ran off to the secret room, came back with a money bag and put it on the table.

The giant counted “1-2-3-4-5…” and then fell asleep.

Jack got some chips out of his jeans and some ice lollies from his hair then jumped out of the freezer.

He ran to the table then grabbed everything. He put the harp under his shoulder, carried the hen in his hand and put the money in his pocket.

He said, “Now harp, be quiet.”

“I am sorry I don’t know how to be quiet,” the harp answered. But Jack switched off the switch anyway.

Jack got to the bottom of the beanstalk. He shouted for his mum to bring the axe.

The ogre woke up and stomped angrily. Then he stopped being angry and hot and calmed down. But he fell into the compost heap because Jack’s mum and dad had already chopped the beanstalk down.

The ogre was so dirty that he had to go and have a bath. I think he is still there.

Everybody else lived happily ever after. Except for a squirrel called Eddie who was so sad that the ogre had to go and have a bath.

The End

The Fanciest Wedding in the Whole, Wide World

by Poppy

The Fanciest Wedding in the Whole, Wide World

Once upon a time, there was a little wedding. It had a cake and a party later on. The girl was called Poolie, the boy was called Tony. A thunderstorm started. Poolie and Tony got in their car. It was a purple, fancy car. Lola, a little girl at the wedding, had a dress just like it. The car was so fancy that everyone was pleasd that the wedding wasn't cancelled.

But there was another storm. They all had purple, pink, green, blue and yellow umbrellas. They weren't getting wet.

They got in their cars and drove off home to have some fun. Everyone was happy, apart from a turtle called Spike. He was sad that everyone had gone until he found a puppy and looked after it.

The End

Very short story

Very short story :

"So, it's two words then?"

"Yes. Yes, of course it is."

She looks at him shyly from under her lids.

"And one is French?"

He frowns but his eyes show his delight at her scattiness.

"French?" Even the arch of his eyebrow makes her laugh.

"Grey Tante.." she manages,  between the giggles.

"It's Great Aunt!" he says before laughter escapes from him as well.

They are the only two laughing. In a dark, gloomy corner of the café, an old man stirs his tea. He disapproves of the laughter but the Universe chooses to concentrate on other things than stopping the giggles.

His face is set grim against the laughter for so long that, when he finally remembers it, his tea has gone cold.

And that was what the Universe had been doing all along.

Cecily Looking for Love at Cyril's Creek Part Fourteen

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Several weeks later and the evening air was filled with candle smoke and gentle piano music. The walls in Josiah’s house flickered with golden light and a gentle hum of conversation made for a convivial atmosphere. If you were there, the amazing smell of the most delicious food would have whetted your appetite and made you hungry for the meal that Cecily was even now completing. Unfortunately, the delicious smell came from next door, who were having a barbecue. So even though you are missing out on the lovely smell, you have avoided the torture of the terrible meal that the hapless Cecily was ineptly preparing so count yourself lucky.

It was quite the gathering in the normally sterile and solitary atmosphere of Josiah’s lounge. He had even been coaxed into being upright and the right way up for the evening. The guests were fewer in number than the initial run of invitations had anticipated but it was still an amazing turnout for the otherwise anonymous household. Of course, those who weren’t there were busy behind their curtains and taking notes. But the Hendersons were there, as was Mrs Train, a frail looking old lady who didn’t get out much. She had no idea who anyone was but was just happy to be there. At the moment, she was describing her verrucas in loud and vivid detail. Also there were the Smigeons. They hadn’t spoken to anyone in their twelve years on the street and, judging by their pursed lips and sips of sherry, they weren’t about to start now. Lastly, there was Vlarg, a mighty orc warrior. He’d been feeling socially awkward since the dinner party had begun. Now, violence-filled quests, he reasoned to himself, you knew where you were with them. On the other hand, genteel bourgeois socialising? That was awkward. His club twitched but, with a supreme effort, he observed social niceties.

Cecily had carefully planned the whole evening. They would begin with drinks, which Josiah was largely in charge of, which would be mixed with fun and vivacious chat. Cecily would pop in and out with nibbles from the kitchen. Then, they would eat, at which time Hardy would be introduced to the neighbourhood. That was the plan and everyone in the household had been drilled in their role until they had forgotten the existence of salad cream.

That was all very well on a plan, in theory and on the drawing board. In reality, the conversation had been stilted and Vlarg had been clearly put out at the lack of drinking horns. Mr Henderson had been fond of the nibbles, well, at least, he was interested in the cheese straws and had asked how strong they were. As it was, they were pretty crunchy but he had seemed to want them to be baked longer and to be even tougher. He spent the next couple of minutes testing it out, swishing it against the palm of his hand. An uneasy feeling grew within Josiah; he was fairly sure that it would prove tough for the gathering to accept Hardy.

Clocks had serenaded him through the small hours for many weeks now as he lay awake in the dark of the night. Troubled thoughts ran, hopped and sometimes even cartwheeled through his brain, waiting for him to doze off before whispering darkly into his ear. It was so bad, this insomnia, that he taken up reading in order to quell the fears. Each night, The Moon peered in at the spine of his current book, always to discover disappointment. It turned out that the insomnia was not bad enough to drive Josiah to his book. The Moon muttered savagely to itself and began work on a musical about an agoraphobic mountain.

Obviously, the main worry Josiah had was about the flourishing relationship between his beloved Cecily and a talking heron. He was worried about how the stripes got in toothpaste too but the main worry was Cecily. The time he had spent with Hardy had shown him that the wader was eloquent, witty and adored Cecily. However, most people wouldn’t wait to get to know the heron. They would judge and judge harshly.

After a few desperate nights, he had come to the acceptance of the relationship and had decided to help them the best he could. In his nocturnal reading, books by romantic female authors encouraged him to let the young couple follow their hearts and live their dreams. Each morning, he would awaken and spread rose petals around the house. He captured some birds and trained them to sing when the couple were in earshot and tied bows around the necks of fluffy, wide-eyed cats which he placed on soft cushions. It turned out Cecily was allergic to roses and the cats ate the birds. But still, it was the thought that counted. In order to atone for his mistake, he agreed to the dinner party and delivered the invitations by hand. It had been a traumatic experience; his ankles were savaged by many pampered small dogs and once by a rather aggressive middle-aged man in a maroon tank top.

Now, sitting at the soiree, he had reservations. Then he remembered that this was no time to be thinking about his campsite business. He closed the laptop down just as Cecily came in and announced the starter was ready. The party slid into various places around the table. Picture that fine scene, the faces awaiting delicious food, their eyes shining with excitement and the voices chattering. No! You’ve got the seating plan wrong! Try again… I’m waiting… I can wait for the rest of the chapter if that is what it takes... Better.... but why would Mrs Train be wearing an AC/DC t-shirt? Come on, try harder… Nearly, although I don’t think I mentioned a fully working Spinning Jenny being present in the corner… Well done, it wasn’t that hard, was it?

Once the starter was served, a dubious soup that appeared to consist largely of thin strands of pondweed and a slimy meat that was reminiscent of frog, the atmosphere worsened. Only Vlarg appeared to enjoy it.

Trying to hide her disappointment, Cecily collected the still full soup bowls and went to collect the main courses.

“It’s gone quite brown and crusty on top, the one near my big toe,” Mrs Train burbled to no-one in particular.

“Mr Vlarg, do you know anything about knots?” Mr Henderson asked, brightly.

His wife’s cheeks reddened.

“Colin!” she hissed.

Without the warning sound of footsteps, Cecily was suddenly back in the room.

“I had an ulterior motive for inviting you here tonight!” she announced, her voice shaking with emotion.

“Ding dong!”

“Colin!”

“Recently, someone very special has come into my life. A soul mate if you will. A gentle, good spirit and someone who cares for me so fully, so tenderly I can scarcely describe the feeling I get from being with him.” She paused and swallowed, obviously close to tears. “I’d like to present Hardy.”

She stepped aside and revealed the heron, tall and proud with a bow tie clinging to the long stringy neck.

There was a bemused and confused silence.

Then, with a guttural growl, Vlarg cried “Main course! Vlarg love heron!”

And, with that, he raised his club menacingly…

Cecily Looking for Love at Cyril's Creek Part Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

The moon orbited. It had been orbiting for as long as it could remember. Sometimes, people came to visit it and it had the feeling of always being watched but otherwise it had been just basically orbiting. This had never really bothered The Moon; it had some fine craters and liked the shape the sunlight made on it. However, tonight it had a problem.

The Moon's memoirs had been out for a while now. When the memoirs had been completed and released under the title 'Let's Go Round Again: Loony Lunar Tales', The Moon had been delighted. It had dreamed of talk shows, TV rights and a major Hollywood movie. However, sales had been sluggish and the reviews had been cutting.

The Moon was therefore trying to think of ways of getting people to notice the book and to buy it in their droves. It had contacted its Literary Agent, who had feigned being unconsciousness following a nasty reaction to a Brussels Sprout to avoid speaking to him. It had tried to call in a few favours from songwriters and poets who now mysteriously could not remember its part in their success. It had tried to dye its North Pole in order to reveal an edgier side and to appear more three dimensional. It was a sign of its level of distraction that the Moon had chosen the dark side to dye. Of course, it was clear that attempting to go to a fashionable party in Walsall had been a huge and catastrophic mistake. It had left, ashamed and with a legal action for repairing a sea-water damaged carpet pending.

Still, it had no idea about how to make people buy the memoirs. Then-inspiration! It would publish it for free on a blog! No-one else had thought of that and international recognition and fame and fortune would surely follow just as night follows that dreadful light part of the diurnal period that no-one liked and The Moon refused to mention by name.

Thus, exalted and excited, The Moon sank below the horizon, already planning how to redesign his memoirs to be released as a blog. Behind it, in the gloomy remnants of the night, an owl shook its head pityingly. There was nothing you could tell the owl about publishing; it knew The Moon was doomed to failure. With a world-weary sigh, the owl returned to penning its own current writing project- a thriller about a family of voles stalked by a dangerous yet handsome killer.

Meanwhile, oblivious to all this natural literary activity, Josiah, Cecily and the heron stood in a silence that was so awkward it fell over its own feet. It blundered around some more, upsetting a small coffee table (that sobbed loudly all night) before leaving the room, jarring its shoulder nastily on the door frame.

"You're romantically attached to a...a...." Josiah's voice tailed off.

Shamefacedly, he bustled over to some bookshelves. There he flicked through the books, running his fingers along the spines and checking the titles. At last, he found a small book called 'The Misleading Bumper Book of Birds'. Leafing through, he found the entry he was after. He replaced the book with care in order to check the filing system remained pristine.

Having completed this research, he strode back to the centre of the room.

"You're romantically attached to a guillemot!" he blustered.

"Hardy is a heron," Cecily told him coolly. "You really need to get a new bird book. And re-read the last chapter. You identified it correctly then. Why do you bluster so? Are you shocked that I am in love with another? ”

“But he’s a bird!” Josiah hissed.

“He’s kind, he’s gentle, he’s generous. Maybe it doesn’t matter which species he is!”

“I think that legally it does. What do you mean generous?”

Cecily glowed with pride.

“I have a whole bucket full of plump frogs outside,” she boasted.

Josiah stepped towards her, taking her elbow firmly in his hand. The great grey bird stretched its neck up high and fluttered its feathers, fixing the man with a glaring and angry stare. Josiah took a nervous step backwards, narrowly avoiding a piece of cake I left there on the carpet so he would stand in it. But he hasn’t, so that was a waste of time.

Holding up his hands in a placatory manner, Josiah motioned awkwardly to the vexed wader that he just wanted a quiet word with Cecily. Leaving the bird behind, they went into the kitchen. Josiah strode angrily around the room whilst Cecily leaned against the sink, sulking inspecting her nails, anticipating a tirade.

“I just don’t get it,” he scolded her. “What on earth are you playing at, young lady?”

Cecily mumbled something in reply.

“It’s, it’s just a phase, that’s all,” he chuntered on.

Her eyes ablaze, her voice strident, Cecily stood tall and proud. Banging her fist on the table to emphasise the main points, she told him why it wasn’t a phase. It was like the attack from an extremely angry goldfish. Yeah, well, you’re just not imagining an angry enough goldfish. Try harder, you slackers. In the face of her tirade, Josiah wilted like a dandelion that had been picked 3 hours and 9 minutes ago. He reeled as she revealed; it certainly cheered him up to do a bit of Highland dancing. Her voice echoed as she told him of her frustration with him, her passion and her desire to be loved.

“But he’s a bird!” Josiah explained patiently. “People will talk!”

“Then they must talk,” she said, simply, “I have done nothing wrong.”

Josiah sighed and slumped onto a hard kitchen chair. It was the sigh of a defeated man; Josiah had won it from him in a game of cards. His life had seemed like it was getting better and that he would get a chance to be with the woman he had such deep feelings for. But, now that Hardy was on the scene, he realised that fulfilling his heart’s desire was as far away as ever. Something was nagging at him. Reaching over, with scarcely a conscious thought, he switched off the I-Nag that had come through the post in a brown paper parcel the week before. Impulse purchasing is a national crisis, folks. At the end of this chapter, there is a once in a lifetime opportunity to buy the all-new DigiMiser, your electronic aid to thrift. Don’t delay, buy today! Ooh, nice irony, thanks to the IroBot for inserting that little beauty in there. They won’t call it a waste of money now!

The two people sat in a troubled silence. This was broken by a tap at the door. Hardy’s unmistakeably pointed beak poked through the gap and the door swung open just a little. Entering cautiously, Hardy blinked and cleared his throat.

“If I might just chip in, I think I could be of some help in sorting this mess out,” he said.