Storytelling Week 11: The Twins of Trast Forest

Ivy ran through the field. Her sister, Lily, followed closely behind. They often ran through these woods. They played tag and raced one another. Sometimes they would play with the animals who resided in the forest as well. But today was different. Today they weren't running for fun. They were running because they had to. They had to run in order to escape. Their feet flew over the ground as fast as they could. Behind them a voice shouted. Hearing how close it was only urged them to go faster.

Ivy reached out and took her sister's hand as they ran. No matter what, they would stay together. They had always been together.

They came upon a large oak tree. The trunk was large enough to hide both of their small frames. They pressed their backs to the trunk and quieted their breathing. They listened for the sounds of the person following them. For a moment they didn't hear anything. The forest was filled with a strange silence. They started to believe they had escaped. However soon enough noise reached their ears.

It wasn't hard to hear. Their pursuer tramped around the forest with complete disregard for his surroundings. Ivy dared to peek around the tree. She saw him stumble past a bush. She quickly pulled back, squeezing Lily's hand. The man stopped and looked around.

"You don't have to be afraid," he called out. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Then how about you leave us alone like we asked," Lily hissed under her breath.

"Quiet," Ivy hushed her sister. "If, we don't respond maybe he will go away."

"There you are," said a voice beside them. They turned, screamed and jumped back. The man had made his way around the tree while they were talking.

"Wait! It's alright, I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to help. " He extended his arms towards them and crouched down a bit.

"Help? Why would you want to help us?" Ivy asked, taking a step back.

"You two shouldn't be out here alone. Where are your parents? Why don't you let me help you find them?"

"We're perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves," Lily stated.

The man gave his best reassuring smile. "I have no doubt of that. But it can still be dangerous out here for two young girls all alone. How old are you two?"

Ivy and Lily looked at each other and then around at the forest around them. "It's hard to say. It's been a while," Ivy said, almost to herself.

The man furrowed his brow at that. Definitely not a normal response from what appeared to be a six-year-old child. "Well, what are your names?"

"We weren't given names. The birds took to calling us Ivy and Lily. They were some of the plants near where they found us."

"Found you?"

"Yes. Found us," Lily repeated.

"You said you wanted to help us," Ivy continued. "How do you expect to do that?"

"I want to help you return to your home. That's all. I'm sure your family must be worried about you."

"But this is our home," Lily protested.

"You live here? In the forest?"

The girls giggled. "No," they said together as if he had missed something important.

"I don't understand."

"How can you expect to help anyone if you don't understand something as simple as that?" Lily asked.

"You're right. Perhaps you should explain it to me."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "We were brought here when we were very small. We don't know by who. They left us here nameless and alone. The days turned to night, no one came for us. No one ever came for us. It turned cold and quiet. Then we heard the birds singing. They brought flowers to cover us. This forest is our home, our resting place. But we don't live here. We can't live here."

The man stood up slowly as Ivy spoke and took a few steps back. The girls vanished before his eyes. He only turned around when he heard the one called Ivy speak again from behind him. "We can't live here, you see, because we're already dead."

(Personal photo from a trip to Sulphur, OK)

Author Note: This story is based on the nursery rhyme Babes in the Wood. The nursery rhyme describes a tale in which two nameless children are taken and left in the woods. Over time they were left alone and they died. After they have died, the robins covered them in strawberry leaves and sing a song to remember them. I set my story after they have already died. Their spirits remain in the forest, happy and isolated from the world. They befriend the animals around them and take the names Lily and Ivy because those are some of the plants around where they were left. Their presence in the forest leads to some stories and legends cropping up about the forest; local tales that makes people want to investigate.  This story is about one of those encounters.

Bibliography: The Nursery Rhyme Book, edited by Andrew Lang and illustrated by L. Leslie Brooke (1897).

Storytelling Week 10: Fire Troubles

Aya made her way into the council meeting. She didn't feel overly enthusiastic about having to attend but it was better than sitting outside in the bitter cold. Since she was small it was easy enough to weave her way through the crowd over to the side. Once she found a spot she liked she went back to focusing on her crochet project. With it being so cold outside she had been crocheting up scarves, hats, blankets and other assorted items to help keep warm. She only used the best threads available, strong but with just the right amount of give and flexibility. As she continues to work on her latest hat she occasionally tunes into the conversation around her. Something about a fire to help them survive the winter but they need some way to retrieve it. Apparently it's in a tree on an island. She thinks if the Thunders were going to be helpful in giving them fire for their cold world would it really have been so inconvenient for them to make it more accessible? There was a lot of shouting and enthusiastic offers to go and retrieve the fire. The one that stood out the most was Raven. Aya snorted at the thought. Of course he would volunteer, the big strong man who could do anything.

Aya didn't pay much attention to the meeting until a collective gasp went up from the crowd. She looked up to see what the fuss was about. When she saw Raven her mouth actually dropped open. Most of his hair had been singed off and what remained had been scorched black. He reluctantly admitted he had been unable to retrieve the fire. With that a long cycle of volunteers and failures began. After Raven, Owl who they nicknamed Screech volunteered to go. When Screech returned he was sporting new red eyes, burned when he got too close and tried to look at the fire. Next went Screech's two cousins, Hoot and Horn. They too returned without the fire but sported some very lovely new white rings around their eyes.

Deeming the fliers incompetent, Snake, also known as Racer decided to go. He swam to try and get to the fire from underneath but it was too hot for him. Upon returning he seemed to have developed a new way of walking, continuously jerking side to side as if he was afraid of being scorched. Racer's brother, Climber was next. He attempted climbing the tree but choked on the smoke and returned with his entire being was a new shade of black. After so many failures the council decided to disband for the day and regroup the next morning. Aya gathered her things and left to find a place to spend the night. Even if she hadn't been pleased with having to attend this meeting, she had been able to complete some crochet projects and had gotten some entertainment while doing so.

The next morning started out much differently. It was quiet and everyone shuffled back and forth. Not a single person volunteered to go retrieve the fire.

"This is ridiculous," Aya exclaimed. "I'll go."

Several people turned to look at her in surprise.

"I can go along the surface of the water and dive below if necessary."

"That's all well and good but how will you bring it back?" someone asked.

"Don't worry about that. Just leave it to me."

She quickly crocheted a small pouch which she wore on her back. She then headed out for the island and retrieved a single coal of the fire. She placed it in the pouch on her back and returned to the council. They used the coal to build a fire of their own and their world became warmer and a little bit brighter.

(Fire)

Author's Note: This story is inspired by The First Fire from the Cherokee Myths unit. With this story I wanted to tell it from the point of view of the character who represents the water spider in the original story. In the original story we don't hear about the water spider until she volunteers to go retrieve the fire. I got this image in my head of a disinterested character not really paying attention to what's going on until it reaches a point where people aren't sure what to do next. Then she steps up and says I might as well give it a try. In my story I do envision my characters as human but I kept their names as the animals which they represent.

Bibliography: Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney (1900).

Storytelling Week 9: An Impossible Tale

Detective Casey left behind the hustle and bustle of the station to begin his walk home. It was a nice evening outside, cool air and only a slight breeze. With each step he took he could feel the stress of the day fading more and more. After a day like to today he was seriously considering using some of his built up leave time to take a vacation with his wife. Lost in thought thinking about where they might like to go he tripped over a box. He stumbled for a few paces and turned to look back. The box let out a whimper. That couldn't be quite right. He stepped closer and peered inside. The whimper as it turned out had actually come from a small puppy sitting inside the box.

He reached in and pet it's head. "Hey there. Looks like you got left behind, huh?" The puppy licked his hand. He picked the puppy up and held him in the crook of his arm. "It'll be nice to have a new addition to the house," he murmured to himself. He continued home with the puppy in tow.

When he arrived home his wife was absolutely delighted with the new puppy. She immediately stole him from her husband and set about preparing a space for him. They had a simple dinner and discussed names for their new puppy. Casey fashioned a collar for him out of an old necklace. They then went down to a local store to pick up some food and other supplies for him. Upon returning home they set up the puppy in his new bed and went to bed themselves.

Casey was sleeping well so far that night. Until he rolled over and saw some strange shadows moving beneath their door that is. He sat up, rubbing his eyes so he could see more clearly. Something definitely seemed to be moving beyond his door.He swung his legs out of bed and stood up. Retrieving his weapon from his nightstand he crept close to the door, listening for sounds outside. He heard the click of nails on the floor, similar to a dog's pacing. He opened the door and peered out not believing what he saw. He opened the door further and stepped out. "That's, impossible," he breathed out.

Before him stood his new puppy. Except now, it wasn't really a puppy anymore. The puppy had grown into a dog almost as large as him. And it was pacing in his confined living room. The dog saw him and lolled it's head to the side expressing a doggy grin. The dog shuffled over to the window, which Casey only just now noticed had been opened, and returned to stand in front of Casey with something in his mouth. He dropped it in front of him and sat back waiting for Casey's reaction. Casey looked down and jumped back horrified letting out a strangled yelp. The dog had brought him a leg, a human leg. Not only that but he recognized the shoe on the leg. It was a very distinctive boot worn by a suspect he had arrested earlier that week on kidnapping charges. He looked back up at the dog who seemed to be saying, "Look what I brought you. Aren't you pleased?" Casey stumbled back into his room in his attempt to get away but tripped over a table and knocked over a lamp. He became tangled in the cord. The dog stood up and began to approach him, coming closer and closer.

Casey shot up out of bed, a layer of cold sweat covering his skin. Next to him his wife stirred and their dog, a 5 year old German Shepard named Chaps raised his head from his sleeping place next to their bed. Casey managed to get his heavy breathing under control, pushing the dream back into the depths of his mind. He wiped the sweat from his brow and swung his legs over the side of his bed. Chaps stood up and came to rest his head on Casey's knee. Casey scratched behind his ears. "You know what bud? I think it's time for a vacation."

(Questioning a Dream)

Authors Note: This story is based on The Great Dog. In the original story a man has a very large dog whom he loves in the place of a son he never had. The dog is very large in size and extremely viscous. Towards the end of the story the dog is known to go inland and kill people residing in their homes and bringing their legs back to his master. However this was not viewed as something bad but rather something good because the people inland were wicked themselves. In my story I took a suggestion from Dr. Gibbs and brought back a previous character, Detective Casey. Upon thinking about how to bring back a character and perhaps create some continuity in my stories the idea of what happened when Detective Casey goes home after his encounter with Sinbad came to me. I really liked the idea of continuing his story this is the result. I kept more of the details of the end of the story in mine. In the original the owner identifies the legs of the inlanders by the furry boots they wear. I did however choose to omit the middle details of the dog attacking someone and forcing the owner to relocate and also the confrontation with the villagers and the other dogs. In my story I also had the dog start off as a puppy and later grow to be massive in size. Also, I really wanted to do a funny image this week to go with the story which I why I chose the one I did.

Bibliography: Eskimo Folk-Tales by Knud Rasmussen with illustrations by native Eskimo artists (1921).

Storytelling Week 7: Balancing the Scales

Sarah seemed to have it all together. She was organized, got good grades in school, worked a steady job, was popular and very well liked. She worked hard and took pride in her accomplishments. She was also extremely kind and overwhelmingly generous in giving to other people and unfortunately there were some people who took advantage of this fact.

One day while walking home she spotted some money on the ground. Immediately she grabbed it and began searching the area for someone who might have dropped it. She was unable to locate a single person and so she decided to take the money home and decide what to do with it there. A local ruffian saw this and decided to approach her. He offered her a cheap ring, a worthless trinket he had found in exchange for some of the money she had found. He expected her to completely brush him off and continue on her way but instead she accepted the deal. She handed over half of what she had found in exchange for the trinket. The man, surprised but delighted all the same walked away whistling a pleasant tune.

A few weeks later he came across the same girl. She had been carrying a bag of apples which had apparently spilled with the apples rolling all over the sidewalk and the majority into the fenced yard nearby. He approached her and offered to help her pick the apples in exchange for a few of them. She gladly accepted but explained her dilemma with her inability to climb the fence into the neighbors yard. The man simply hopped the fence and told her not to worry that he would get them and toss some apples back to her. However he only selected to toss back the ones that had been bruised, muddied, or squashed in some way. He pocketed all the good ones and made a show out of eating one in front of her.

Sarah grew angrier and angrier by the minute. Suddenly an idea came to mind. "You know, that was some pretty impressive fence hopping earlier. I bet you can't do a flip back over it."

"Watch and learn," he called back.

But as he went to do the flip he forgot about how slippery the ground was from rain the night before. He slipped in the mud on his way to do the flip and instead of landing on the ground he went face first into the fence and then over. The result of his flip meant that several apples tumbled out of his pockets. Sarah gathered them up quickly and shoved them in her bag. The man struggled to his feet and shouted profanities at her. He grabbed her bag, pulled it off her shoulder and smacked her across the face. Sarah stumbled back and took off running.

When her friends found out what happened they became determined to balance the scales and give the man just what he deserved. They devised a plan for the next time Sarah ran into the man and then set it into action. Walking down the same street she had encountered the man as before once she saw him she let something slip out from her bag and pretended not to notice and continued walking. The man went to investigate what she had dropped thinking it might be something of value to him. It was a small round object roughly the size of the egg and as he was trying to figure out what exactly it was it exploded and enveloped him in a cloud of foul smelling gas. He coughed and sputtered, attempting to run away from the area. He ran exactly in the direction her friends predicted and as he ran he tripped over something. This something turned out to be a hornets nest! They swarmed and stung him all over. He scrambled to his feet and once again started running. He tried to run into a building to escape the hornets but unfortunately he failed to notice how low the doorway was and hit his head knocking himself out cold.

Sarah and her friends watched the whole scene unfold from a distance. Afterwards Sarah continued to work hard and show kindness to others, but she never let them take advantage of her kindness.

(An emakimono, or picture scroll of the original fairy tale)

Author's Note: This story was inspired by The Crab and the Monkey. In the original story the monkey takes advantage of the crab's willingness to share but when she outwits him he beats her nearly to death. Her friends help her get revenge when he comes back and attempts to steal fruit from her. In my story I lessened the severity of the beating and ended with the ruffian being knocked out instead of being killed as he was in the original. I attempted to keep my changes closely tied with the progression of the original.  

Bibliography: The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1903).

Storytelling Week 6: The Perfume Fiasco

"This is all your fault," Alex yelled, pointing to the broken bottles of perfume now scattered on the floor.

"My fault? How can this possibly be my fault? It was the stupid cat," her roommate, Cailey argued.

"How did the cat even get in here in the first place?"

"I don't know! It was running around in the hall making a lot of noise and when I opened the door the cat ran in here and jumped on your desk and your perfume bottles were sitting so close to the edge they fell off!"

"Then it's your fault the cat got in and your fault it broke my perfume bottles!"

"This is ridiculous. Let's go talk to our RA and see what she has to say about whose fault it is."

"Fine by me."

The two girls walked down the hall and into their RA's room. The RA let them each tell their own side of the story and why they felt the way they did about whose fault it was. Cailey explained how Alex shouldn't have left her perfume bottles so precariously placed on the edge of the desk where a single little bump could make them fall. Alex talked about how Cailey let the cat in the room where it was able to cause so much trouble.

The RA listened to each of them intently before speaking about her opinions on the matter. "It sounds to me like the cat is the one who really is at fault here and not either one of you. Go get this cat and bring it here to me so that we may sort this situation out to a proper resolution."

"What?" the two girls asked at the same time.

"You heard me. Find the cat and bring it to me."

"But the cat ran out of the room while we were arguing," Cailey protested.

"How are we supposed to find it?" Alex added.

"Perhaps if you worked together you might be able to find it."

The RA turned her attention back to her own project she was working on, indicating the matter was closed. Cailey and Alex left the room and began looking for the cat. They asked around the residence halls to see if anyone had seen the cat. Soon enough word spread around campus about how they were looking for this cat. Several people even joined in to help them look for the cat. They searched for several hours and experienced several mishaps during their search. They tripped and slipped in mud, Alex ran into a door, and Cailey climbed a tree after a cat and promptly fell out of it. Throughout the process they found themselves laughing more and more at the ridiculousness of the situation. They never did manage to find the cat but at the end of the day they returned to their RA's room.

"Did you find the cat?" the RA asked.

"No," Alex admitted. "But, to be honest, I don't even feel mad anymore."

"Me either. It all seems kind of silly now," Cailey said smiling.

A smile twitched on their RA's mouth. "Good." She reached under her desk and pulled out much to their surprise the cat from earlier. "This is my cat, Oreo. You two were so caught up in trying to place blame you didn't even stop to think about trying to find the owner of the cat and talking to them. Then you went on what appears to be quite the adventurous journey around campus to find a cat and bring it back for a judgment. Sometimes accidents happen and there isn't anyone to blame." She then pulled out a bottle of perfume, the same kind that had been broken. "Now, I'm sorry for the trouble that Oreo caused. I bought you a replacement bottle while you were making your best attempts to climb trees."

The girls both blushed, embarrassed. "Thank you very much," Alex stammered, picking up the bottle.

"Now shoo, both of you go get cleaned up and refreshed."

The girls both left, having learned a valuable lesson, and returned to their room.

(Personal photo of my cat, Professor)

Author's Note: This story was inspired by The Donkey and the Rock. I made quite a few changes for my story. In the original story one man's donkey knocks another man's jar of oil off a rock and it spills. They argue and go to visit the king who determines that the donkey and the rock are to blame and orders them tried. On the day of the trial many people came to witness the strange event. The judge then reprimands the people for coming to see such an absurd thing they knew to be impossible and makes each of them pay half a cent to leave. The money was then given to the man whose oil was spilled and both men went their own ways pleased with the outcome. For my story I wanted to make it more modern and more relatable so I decided to make it an argument between two roommates who take the argument to their RA. I also changed the details of how the situation was resolved so that it fit better with the story that I had written. I used the image of my own cat since I changed the donkey to a cat for my own story.

Bibliography: Tibetan Folk Tales by A.L. Shelton with illustrations by Mildred Bryant (1925).

Storytelling Week 5: Sinbad the Suspect

Detective Casey looked over the file presented to him. Some officers had picked up a disheveled man with several large, high-quality diamonds in his possession. According to the report the man had approached the officers offering some diamonds in exchange for passage home. Further investigation of the diamonds had led back to a jewelry store robbery a few blocks from where they arrested the man. They also had reports from a local airstrip showing a stowaway in a small plane matching their suspects description. Immediately when the officers arrived back at the precinct with him, several detectives had passed him off to the next one. Unfortunately when he arrived at Detective Casey, there was no one left to pass him on to. Detective Casey let out the breath he was holding and entered the interrogation room. He sat at the table across from the suspect.

“So, Mr. Bad is it?”

“Sinbad, it's all one name.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Sinbad. Can you tell me how you came into possession of these diamonds?” Detective Casey gestured to the diamonds in evidence bags on the table.

“Same way I told everyone else, I found them.”

“Where exactly did you find these millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds?”

“In a diamond field of course. Where else would I find them?”

"How did you arrive at this diamond field?"

"Oh, that's where the giant bird I was attached to landed."

The detective took a deep breath. "Perhaps it would be best if you told your version of events in their entirety from the beginning."

"Alright, if you insist. I am a merchant, responsible for the import and export of certain goods. I was traveling around looking for new goods to bring back with me. We stopped off at a small island for a short break. While there I fell asleep on the beach, and when I woke up the ship had left me there! I ran all around the island looking for some way to get their attention. That's when I found the giant white boulder that was very soft to the touch."

"A soft boulder, you say?"

"Yes! Only it wasn't a boulder at all! It was an egg! I had found the nest of the great Roc bird! Soon enough the bird itself returned to the nest. Here is where I saw my opportunity. I tied myself to the bird's foot so that when it next took flight it would take me with it. Sure enough, the next morning the bird left its nest and flew far away. When the bird landed, I untied myself and ran off to the side. I discovered soon enough that I stood in the middle of a field of snakes! The bird killed some and took them back to its nest. I took refuge in a cave for the rest of the night. The next morning I took a look around where I was. As I walked along I noticed several beautiful stones. I realized that I had to be in the field of diamonds! I knew other merchants came here all the time and I might be able to find some to help me get home! I gathered up as many stones as I could find and put them in my pockets, hoping that I could use some of them to secure my passage home. Luckily, it didn't take long for me to  find some other merchants. However, once they discovered that I had some diamonds, better quality than their own I'm sure, they became extremely jealous and attacked me! They rudely shoved me to the ground, restrained my hands, and tried to take my diamonds from me. Then they brought me here over what I am sure is a ridiculous misunderstanding that I now have to relate to you."

"I see. Thank you for that explanation, Mr. Sinbad. We'll get someone to take you back to your room now and hopefully by the morning we can get this all straightened out."

Sinbad smiled like that was the best thing he had heard all day. "It's nice to finally speak to someone who has some common sense!"

Detective Casey stood and exited the room letting out a huge sigh. His partner, Detective Hughes, came to stand beside him.

"So, what do you think he took?" she asked.

"I have no idea. Whatever it was that he took I hope it's worn off by morning."

"Regardless, we have enough to book him for stowing away on the plane. It was a small plane from Roc Airways. Then we've got the surveillance cameras showing him breaking into and stealing diamonds from the jewelry shop. We also have the statements from the officers he ran into whom he offered to trade the diamonds to for a ride home."

"Finish up the processing paperwork, and then we'll come back and deal with the rest of this in the morning. I'm going home. I've had enough of this for one day."

"See you tomorrow then."

(The Valley of Diamonds, by M. Parrish)

Author Note: This story was inspired by The Second Voyage (Part 1, Part 2). To be honest I had no idea what I was going to do with this story. When I was just about to fall asleep, the idea of Sinbad trying to explain his voyage in a police interrogation came to me, I rolled over, texted a note about it to myself, went back to sleep and when I woke up I decided to run with it. The story that Sinbad tells to the police is the original story from Sinbad's second voyage. In the original story he did in fact get stranded on an island, find a giant egg, tie himself to the leg of the giant bird the egg belonged to, go to the valley of diamonds, encounter some other merchants and using diamonds he gathered he was able to negotiate passage home. I chose to make it seem like the whole thing was a delusion he had. I tried to incorporate the details of what really happened in my story fit along with the delusion such as the valley of diamonds actually being a jewelry store and the Roc bird actually being a small plane from Roc Airways. The image I chose depicts Sinbad in the Valley of Diamonds and is an illustration of the original story.

Bibliography: The Arabian Nights' Entertainments by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1898).

Storytelling: The Crafty Robber

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she have been so stupid? Alex muttered under her breath some more about the stupidity of her sister. It had been so simple, this was a heist they had done several times before. Their father, a construction worker had built in a false panel to a wall leading to one of the world's best stocked treasure vaults. Before he died he told them of what he had done and gave them instructions on how to find it. On multiple occasions now they had used that entrance, slipped in, grabbed some treasure, slipped out completely unseen, and made their getaway. It didn't matter what extra guards were added or how they changed up the security, as long as they used their passage they had a secure route. But then there had been that trap, and Anya just had to get caught it. Once she was caught she knew there was no getting out. As such she had requested Alex decapitate her so that she couldn't be identified and could at least perhaps protect their family from the family who owned this vault. Alex had complied although it she now felt nothing but empty dread inside. The thrill and exhilaration of the theft was gone. She returned home and delivered the news of what had happened to their mother.

The next day the town was in an absolute uproar. There had been a huge news story on the finding of Anya's decapitated body. The papers speculated that she was the robber who had been causing the so called royal family of this town. But even more speculation surrounded who had decapitated her. Everyone wanted to know who the partner was and if they had turned on each other in greed, However, the biggest news story was what they planned to do with her body. They planned to display it in effort to find out who the partner was. When her mother heard this she had an absolute meltdown. She threatened to turn Alex in for her own stupidity in getting her sister caught if she didn't retrieve her body and bring it home so they could bury Anya properly.

However Alex was in luck. In just a few days a grand dinner party was to be held at the very building Anya's body was on display at. She gathered the supplies she needed and entered the party under the disguise of a caterer for the party. After the party was well under way she slipped away to bring the guards some refreshment. She flirted and chatted with them as they drank their drinks. Soon enough they were snoring on the floor. Alex retrieved her sister's body from the display, slipped it into her catering cart and returned home. When the head of the family heard of this he was greatly angered. This time he sent his own daughter out to personally gather information on the robber. She went to the local bars and found rumor of the robber and decided to wait there. When Alex heard of this she simply couldn't resist. She went to the bar and challenged the daughter to a drinking game. After each shot they would have to make an honest confession about things they had done. When it was Alex's turn she confessed the most wicked thing she had done, which was to murder her sister. The daughter seemed unfazed and Alex was impressed. In the next round Alex confessed to her greatest success, robbing the girl's father several times.

At this the daughter seized Alex's hand. But Alex had been prepared. She simply pulled her hand backwards as a fake hand slipped out of her jacket sleeve. She waved her real hand at the stunned speechless daughter and took off out the door. As she ran she laughed. It had been a long time since she had so much fun. When the daughter returned home still holding the fake hand her father was stunned. He didn't know what to do from there. He knew simply catching the robber wouldn't work. So he decided to do the next best thing. The next day he put an ad in the paper offering the robber a job as head of security. When Alex saw that she fell out of her chair laughing. So once again she returned to the building that held vast treasure. But this time she used the front door.

(A robber making his getaway) 

Author Note: This story is based on The Tale of King Rhampsinitis. In the original story 2 brothers repeatedly sneak into a king's treasure hoard through a secret access point and steal from him. One brother eventually gets caught in a trap and killed and then through a series of shenanigans to retrieve the body and evade capture the remaining brother is offered the king's daughter's hand in marriage. In my story I changed the sibling characters from male siblings to female siblings because I've found that you can have fun with the dynamics when you take characters and swap their gender. I also made the setting a bit more modern but I decided not to make it too specific. I also changed a few of the details such as her being offered a job instead of the daughter's hand in marriage because it seemed to fit better with the story as I was writing it. I really enjoyed reading this story and thought it could be fun to retell. I chose to leave out dialogue because in the original story there is almost no dialogue at all. I chose the image I did because I wanted more of a fun cartoony image but I was really disappointed in my search when trying to find one of a female robber. Unfortunately most of them were overly sexualized images, but I still like the one I did end up using.

Bibliography: Egyptian Myth and Legend by Donald Mackenzie (1907).

Storytelling Week 3: Turning the Tables

Kane sat in the back alley looking over his scores for the day. It was a poor showing he had to admit. Two of the wallets he had managed to score didn't even have any cash in them. At this rate his reputation as the fox, the best local thief, was going to be in danger. Even tourists who were his usual go-to when business was slow were low in numbers these days. He let out an exasperated sigh, tossed the wallets into the garbage and exited the alley back onto the street. He wandered around for a few minutes attempting to find a new mark. He saw something that caught his eye. It was a kid, no older than twelve or thirteen. They were standing outside of a shop and looking around in a distressed manner. But what really caught his eye was how the kid was dressed. She was wearing expensive clothes not suited for this area of town. A wicked grin spread across his face. A lost child that came from money, this could work in his favor.

Kane approached the kid and tapped her on the shoulder. "Everything alright?"

The kid turned to face him. They were on the verge of tears. "I, I got separated from my big brother. I was looking for him but then I got lost and now I don't know where to go."

"If you would like I would be happy to help you look for him."

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"Thank you, Mister!"

"Please, call me Zach. And what's your name?"

"Emily."

"Well, Emily, where were you last with your brother?"

"We were at the bookstore, the one by the elementary school."

"I know just where that is. Shall we head that way and start looking for him?"

Emily beamed at him and nodded her head enthusiastically. As they turned and started walking, Kane once again felt himself smiling. Everything was going smoothly so far. They walked several blocks to the northeast, into a more upscale part of the town.

"Over there!" Emily exclaimed, pointing across the street. "That's where I last saw my brother. He went down that passageway."

Kane flashed a smile at her. "Let's start there then."

The girl skipped ahead of him and he followed her down the passage.

Something hard and heavy connected with his head. Suddenly the world was tilting and he realized he was falling. But why was he falling? That didn't make any sense to him. He hit the ground and tried to look around. A pair of expensive shoes came into his field of vision and he looked up. Emily was standing above him, looking down with a smile. That didn't make any sense either. Something flickered out of the corner of his vision and he turned just in time to see a large boot come flying at his torso. Knocking the wind out of him, it collided with his chest. As he struggled to regain his breath, he managed to turn over onto his other side. Soon enough he felt himself being turned back over onto his back and his pockets being rummaged through. They found what they were looking for and stopped soon enough.

Emily knelt down beside him. "Silly little fox, you should've known better. This territory belongs to me and is guarded by my ever faithful dog."

He looked past her and found this dog happened to be a very large man.

"I hope you learn your lesson from this. It would be a shame if we had to review it," Emily continued.

The man lifted his boot above Kane. He tried to raise his arms to block but he wasn't fast enough. The boot collided with his head. Everything went black.





(Illustration by Milo Winter)

Author Note: This story is based on The Dog, the Cock, and the Fox. In the original story the fox hears the rooster and is trying to trick the rooster by pretending to welcome it to the forest but is really trying to eat the cock. However, the fox himself is tricked, directed around the tree by the cock who pretends to be grateful for the welcome where he is attacked by the dog. For my story I changed them to human characters as animals wouldn't have suited the direction I wanted to take the story in. I really love stories with deceptions and turning it back on the other person which is why I chose this story to retell and also why I decided to make it more of an intentional deception with my characters representing the dog and the cock being con artists in their own right. I chose the image I did because it is the illustration for the original story. I feel that the illustration is still very fitting even with the changes that I made to the story. The fox and the cock are having a seemingly friendly interaction but you can clearly see the dog hidden and waiting for the chance to attack.

Bibliography:
The Aesop for Children, with illustrations by Milo Winter (1919).

Storytelling Week 2: Narcissus the Drama Major

In the world of theater no university was more respected than the University of Dramatics. The students from this university were consistently recognized as the best at what they do. So it was only natural for Narcissus to select this as the school he would attend. Narcissus was widely known for his seemingly prodigious acting talents. There seemed to be no limits to the kinds of roles he could take on. His mountain of talent was matched only by the mountainous size of his ego. Students flocked around him, hoping to be brought into his inner circle. Narcissus however was not so keen to let anyone in. On a regular basis he would smile and draw them closer but within a very short amount of time he would send them away again. He publicly disgraced them in front of the school. In doing so however he forgot one very simple fact. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

One such scorned woman appealed to the playwright, Nemesis, known by her pen name Rhamnusia, who was in charge of the school’s next production. Nemesis heard the girl’s complaints and decided that is was time for Narcissus to learn his own lesson. She wrote a play for him and him alone. There were no large stage props for the background and no other characters for him to interact with. The stage would be occupied by only a single large mirror into which Narcissus would stare for the entirety of the play.

Narcissus was overjoyed at the thought of showcasing a new side to his acting. Surely now he could showcase the true extent of his genius. He practiced his gazes every time he came across a mirror. Staring into his own reflection and reaching towards it, as if he could simply reach beyond the thin plane of glass and grasp his own hand. It was the night before the play was set to open and Narcissus was going on stage for the final rehearsal. However there was something wrong. The mirror on the stage was broken, shattered into jagged pieces. When he attempted to look at it his reflection was distorted and broken.

“What, what, what happened,” he stammered.

“Oh, guess they forgot to tell you, since the main prop was broken they decided it would be too much trouble to get a new one so the whole production got cancelled,” said a stage hand from behind him.

“Cancelled! How can this be?”

The stage hand shrugged. “Sorry dude.”

Narcissus grabbed at his chest as he began to hyperventilate. “This can’t be. My chance has been stolen from me! This was supposed to be my moment, my chance for my genius to shine through! And now I have been robbed of it!” He backed up towards the edge of the stage. The color drained from his face. His body twisted into a dramatic arch he fell backwards to the ground. There he curled into a ball and wept in mourning over his lost chance. 

(Image found online from a photo website)

Author Note: This story was taken from the story of Narcissus. I wrote my story this way because in the original story there are very few spoken lines and most of it is just narrative. I changed the story by making the setting a modern university specialized in theater. I also changed some of the details, in the original Narcissus was known for his appearance and not his acting ability. Also in the original story when he gazed into a reflecting pool he fell in love with himself and was distraught when his reflection was disrupted. It ended with him turning into a flower. 

Bibliography: "Narcissus" from Ovid's Metamorphoses, translated by Tony Kline (2000)

Week 1 Storytelling: The Fallen King

The King of France went up the hill,

With twenty thousand men;

The King of France came down the hill,

And ne'er went up again.

The war had been waging on for a long time now, far too long in the King’s mind. Winter had arrived a few weeks ago and today marked the first snow of the season. White flakes, slowly thickening fell from a dull, flat gray sky, blanketing the ground turning it into a soft sheet of pure white. It stood in stark contrast to the hardness of the soldiers camped there. Twenty thousand soldiers hardened and weary from all the battles they had fought up until now. The soles of their boots worn through, their clothes providing no insulation from winter’s biting chill, their armor dented and broken, their swords dulled and blunted. The King walked among these soldiers, his soldiers who had stood behind him and followed him with unwavering faith throughout all the, battles they had fought until now. He could feel his resolve forming. Today, regardless of the outcome it would be the final battle. Today this long and bloody war would finally come to an end. He climbed atop his horse and rode to the front of the formation. They stood at the base of a hill. On the other side was the opposing force which outnumbered them 4 to 1. The King raised his sword and turned to face his men.

            “Today, no matter what, we end this! We keep fighting until the last man!”

            The soldiers raised their swords and twenty thousand voices joined his in a battle cry. He turned his horse and began to charge up the hill. His men followed closely behind. As they came over the top of the hill he paused; his men swarming around and charging down in from of him. Spots of black began to dot the gray sky. He didn’t feel it when it hit. The roaring in his ears turned first to deafening silence, and then to a high pitched ringing. He felt himself falling backwards. Something else hard hit his chest and it hastened his fall. He looked down and saw the ends of two black arrows sprouting forth from his chest. He hit the ground hard and the angle of the hill forced him to roll downwards. He let himself roll choosing not to fight it. When he came to the bottom he stared up at that gray sky. The flakes began covering him with their softness and he felt himself slipping. The face of his oldest and dearest friend swam into his vision. Briefly the world came back into focus in painful clarity.

            “Your highness, don’t move, we’ll get you somewhere safe.”

            The king shook his head. He reached up and his friend clasped his hand. “Lead them forward, take them home.”

            The world once again began to fade from focus and this time he allowed it. He slipped away into white softness. The King had fallen, never to rise again. 

(A King falling, art by Greg Newbold)

Author's Note: This story is based on the nursery rhyme "The King of France". The rhyme can be found in The Nursery Rhyme Book, edited by Andrew Lang (1897). For me this rhyme conjured an image of a king leading his soldiers into battle, and yet just as he leads his twenty thousand men over a hill he himself is struck down. He falls back down the hill alone, and never rises again. That image stuck with me very strongly so I decided to write this short story detailing it.