The Rabbit and the CloverThere was a little rabbit who had perfectly curved ears and the fluffiest, whitest scut his colony had ever seen. The elder favoured him, because someone with so beautiful attire could only have a beautiful soul, and the young adored him and wanted to win his benevolence.
One day, a female came to him and said:
"I found the last clover growing before the winter, just there, and I want to give it to you, because you are both equally beautiful."
The little rabbit followed her to the place she had indicated, and indeed there was the last clover, and it smelled delicious.
"Thank you," he said and nuzzled the female, who ran away then.
Looking at the clover, the rabbit said to himself:
'This clover is really just as beautiful as I am, and I will not eat it right away. There is still enough other food and this one deserves admiration.'
He settled down next to the clover and started eating the grass that grew around it.
Before night fell, the female came back to the spot where the clover grew
The Biased Help Wanted SignOnce again, the Help Wanted sign had been set up in the shop window. It sat between a teddy bear with short brown fur and a doll with Snow White's hair and green glass eyes, looking out at the street and the people passing by Leo's Toyshop.The Biased Help Wanted Sign6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The shop was very old; the name on it's signboard was fading slowly, and it's owner's face showed some new wrinkles every day. Supported by his wooden walking stick Leo stood behind the window display and looked out with a worried expression. Nine years the last boy had stayed with him, until he had to leave town to live with his new wife. It would be difficult to replace him.
"What about this one? She looks nice," said the doll one afternoon.
"She looks a bit like you," grumbled the bear.
"And she is useless," replied the sign.
A middle-aged woman stopped in front of the shop window to look at them. She had dark black hair and green eyes edged with lines of sorrow and short nights. "That doll looks acceptable. I think I will buy her for my niece's
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like wingless dove...
Chocolate MonsterOnce upon a time there was a little girl named Cecilia. She was very sweet looking and very polite, therefore people were always giving her sweets."Such a sweet girl deserves sweets," they said and patted her on the golden-haired head, smiling at her bright-blue eyes. And as it is the way with people, nobody wasted a thought on what was best for the child, as long as it smiled happily, which it always did.Chocolate Monster6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Cecilia, on the other hand, started to be very vain, because she could not help noticing that she always got more attention and a lot more sweets from the grown-ups than all the other children. "I must be really special," she thought, "like a princess. One day I'll be the queen of them all. But I don't want to wait that long, they should start bowing to me now." But the other children refused to treat her like a princess, or indeed a queen. Instead, they threw mud at her and were told off for it by the adults. After that they laughed at her behind her back and never talked to or play
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"You're not my type."
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His memories were still so fresh it felt like only yesterday that he had pushed her on the swing, her laughter rippling through the air like waves over water.
As his fingers glided over the keys his eyes glided over the arrangement of little paper darts on the shelf. He had gotten one every week when she was away, neatly folded into envelopes and covered in her tiny writing. Each contained a secret about her.
"That way, I'm flying to you, no matter where I am," she had explained.
A sad smile played on his lips as his music moved the air around him, sounds building up like longing coming to life.
He remembered the pi pie he'd made for her amusement. When it was ready, he had led her into the kitchen and sat her down at the small table. She'd stayed there waiting patiently, only her eyes moving and following him. Smiling, she had reminded him of the Mona Lisa. But she had been so much more beautiful.
Had it really been a year already?
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" - my husband."
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He dreamed Life.
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was giving out