Polly inched along her perch with almost mechanical movements of her little green legs, in response to the sound of the front door opening. Grip-stretch-grab-grip, grip-stretch-grab-grip. She tilted her head and watched the frizzy-haired woman as she stormed into the living room and flopped down on the couch without even taking her coat or shoes off.
She looked furious. The frizzy-haired woman, not the parakeet. The parakeet, in contrast, looked curious. She tilted her head and moved her tongue inside her beak, tempted to talk now that one of the resident humans was around. Polly had been looking forward to some company for the past couple
Winter had a way of describing the Monday walk to school in a way no writer ever could. Perhaps it was because writers only wrote about the drabness; winter itself actually lived it.
The morning was cold, the chill urban atmosphere managing to fall somewhere between emotionless and baleful. The sun rose a little bit earlier than it had a month ago but the light, broad though it was by 8:30am, still lacked any sense of poetry; instead it was bland, flat. Bleak. That didn't mean there was any sense of danger - it managed to be bleak without being malevolent. It was just kind of... grim and terminally uninspiring.
The sky had its grey uniform
"What’s inside?" squealed Indigo, all excited impatience, skittering restlessly beside Sapphire and scattering leaf mould in its wake with its four, black claws.
"Are there any books?" asked Cyan, not as over-excited as its sibling but alert and keen to see what their big sister had stolen.
"You can’t read," Slate reminded Cyan tartly as it brought up the rear of the party.
Cyan mostly ignored its ill-tempered clutchmate but couldn’t quite resist throwing Slate a quick, unimpressed side-eye. “Neither can you.”
Big sister - Sapphire - laughed, using her superior height to hold the hemp sack
Lapis awoke to the comfortable sensations of home. At first, it didn't even open its eyes, so comfortable was it in this tightly-woven mass of family. All around it were its clutch-mates, either still asleep or in a similar state of glorious, cozy sleepfulness. It could smell them and feel the collective warmth of their bodies: the way someone else's tail roped lazily around its waist, the toes of another's foot cradled in Lapis' own, the rump of one of its siblings firmly against its shoulder.
Beyond them was the continuous, spherical wall of the nest their brood-mother had woven a long time ago, a while before she had even laid her clutch.
It had been a long time since Olivine had seen the rippled light of the sun, and she missed it. This far down, the sun was barely even a murky circle, let alone the celestial blaze of glory the human books described it as. Barely worth looking up for. Rays did reach down here but they too were faint for her tastes.
That was easy enough to fix, with a little time and care. Olivine had no chores to do today so on this morning she made the choice to spend her day near the surface, drifting where she could bask in the warm waters of the shallows. She would make sure that she wasn't seen. Humans rarely went anywhere near her favourite basking spo
Once, on the shores of the Arctic in a small Inuit village, there lived a widow. She didn't go hungry, as it was the custom of the village for neighbours to share food with one-another, but she was lonely, for she had no children. Her loneliness often took her on solitary walks away from the village. She would gaze out at the bleak, sparkling sea and wish for a son. But of course, being a widow, that was impossible.
One day, on her journey home from one of these lonesome walks, she found a tiny polar bear cub alone on the ice. Her first instinct was to pity the poor creature, for he looked so alone in the world - very much like her, in that
A very long time ago, a great river ran through the land, and all of the animals drank from it when they were thirsty. It made the grass grow, and fish lived in its depths, so not only did every creature drink from it, it fed every creature too.
But then, one day, a giant moose came to the waterside to drink. He was so big, and he drank so much, that the level of the river started to go down.
The animals could see that if he kept on drinking, then there wouldn't be enough water left over for them. They huddled together to talk about the problem but no animal wanted to confront the huge moose: they were all too scared. The beavers didn't wan
There was something beautiful about the way the motorcycle sped past.
Ann-Marie watched the vehicle as it sped into the distance ahead of her. Its shining chrome gleamed in the sun, turning it into a veritable shooting star. A thin cloud of dust swirled in its wake, but that didn't dull the machine's sparkle. Its owner, a middle-aged man, sat astride it as proud as a sea-captain, his leather-covered arms spread wide to let his hands rest on the handlebars and his long hair billowing behind him.
And then he and his mechanical steed were gone, leaving Ann-Marie gazing after them.
She should have kept walking. After all, she was supposed to b
I'm offering narration commissions!
For now this is just for December, but if anyone's interested in having a story narrated, let me know! Prices are negotiable and I'm happy to read pretty much anything that isn't porn or any horror that's too depra ...
After several months of going dark I'm coming out of the woodwork again.
Remember that secret project I told you all about? I've just launched it, and here's the lowdown:
The Character Consultancy is a service for anybody who invents fictional characters, to help them understand those characters better and add extra depth and detail. It's for performers with stage personas (burlesque dancers, drag artists, and other cabaret artists for example - and that's just the start!), goths and vampires with a passion for their alter-egos, and cosplayers with their own unique characters. In short, The Character Consultancy is a character