“Stop biting your nails!” said Mom.
“Sorry,” mumbled Jackson.
“You’re still doing it!” said Mom.
“Whoops,” mumbled Jackson.
“Honestly, child, you’re hopeless! Am I going to have to take your nails away and put them back in the cupboard?” said Mom. “They’re for hammering, not chewing! You’ll break your teeth!”
Jakob had an idea. It was a stupendous idea, a marvelous idea, a fabulous idea.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember what it was.
He asked his garbage man. He asked his barber. He asked a woman at the grocery store. They couldn’t remember, either.
Jakob’s dog knew, but she wasn’t telling.
There were monkeys on the roof of the Johnsons’ house.
No one in the neighbourhood knew how they’d gotten there, and the Johnsons weren’t responding to complaints, even though the neighbours, quite helpfully, sometimes left big red barrels on their lawn.
In the Johnsons’ basement, the Transmogrifier hummed and buzzed.
Dear Mister Mayor,
I wish that you would make it a holiday on every day. It would be a Great Idea.
Sincerely,
Timmy
***
Dear Timmy,
You’re right! Why didn’t I think of that? You’re a genius! I submitted the legislation this afternoon and it went into effect immediately.
Sincerely,
The Mayor
Mouse hid in the dark corner. The piece of bread laying on the floor looked like a complete meal to the starving mammal.
Fear set aside, ready to jump into the world feet first, he blindly took his chance.
Cat had its dinner, slurping the tail like a spaghetti noodle.
Sabrina Hicks has a passion for writing and animal rights. Besides writing she donates time at animal shelters and now owns three dogs, one cat, and a bird.
Henderson Michaelthromp knew a lot of facts. He read encyclopedias, record books, travel brochures, even Hansards.
No one ever seemed impressed, even when he knew the average lifespan of a diabetic macaw.
Then one day Henderson knew just the right facts to save a little girl’s life. And he did.
The genie gave him three wishes.
He wished he could fly.
The genie granted his wish, so he flew and flew and flew.
He wished he could land.
The genie granted his wish, so he fell and fell and fell.
He wished he could survive the fall.
The genie winked.
“Honeybuns, could I have that stapler? Thanks!”
“Honeybuns, could you grab me a pen? Thank you!”
“Honeybuns, could you stand up so I can scrape some honey off your bum onto my toast? Much appreciated!”
Ever since an ironic factory accident, Mr. Honeybuns had become much more popular at office.
A raccoon, a wolf, and a bighorn sheep sat down for a cup of tea.
The kettle burned out, which made the wolf shout, “Woe, I say, woe unto me!”
Catastrophe brewed: the tea-less wolf stewed. (He was addicted, you see).
The raccoon knew kung-fu. Don’t ask about the sheep.
This story was inspired by a prompt from @Aeric90, who responded to a request for three mammals with wolf, raccoon, and bighorn sheep.
She was soft-spoken, quiet, and reserved. Her favorite word was mutability. She loved the idea of it, loved the concept of transformation and change.
He was brash, loud, and arrogant. His favorite thing to do was orate forcefully about the overwhelming inevitability of fate.
It was love at first fight.
Erin Sterling is constantly undergoing training montages to be an editor. When she is not training, she is stage managing, staffing at a community-based larping group, or sleeping.