Pollye Pye-Ratt


Pollye Pye-Ratt (265 Words)

Wallie and I are pleased to introduce you to the Pye-Ratts.

Pollye Pye-Ratt and her family members featured in a very recent Computer Science project. Although the project was not graded as I and the Pye-Ratts had hoped, nonetheless the subject is still worth sharing.

First off–Pollye is a mouse, not a rat! But we’ll let her speak for herself.


My name is Pollye Pye-Ratt…and I’m a mouse, not a rat! I think I am a field mouse, because my parents are very small. I’ve very small too, but that’s because I am one season old and they tell me I’m supposed to be. I think I am very clever for my age. Mice grow much more quickly than some larger animals do.

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When Rejection Strikes the Writer’s Life


When Rejection Strikes the Writer’s Life (169 Words)

There are, perhaps, few things more damaging than rejection. In love as in friendship, in friendship as in writing, a word of rejection can cause the most torturous self-doubt. Now to be fair, a thrown-away love is a far worse tragedy than a turned-around manuscript and “No thank you.” But to be equally just, if writing is love for you—an expression of some winged part of yourself—then a formed letter is like a smack in the face.

“I,” said Katy, “am never sending anything out again!”

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The Purple Nurple


The Purple Nurple (A Dragon Tale in 282 Words)

Have you ever tried to give a dragon a bath? It’s no laughing matter. For one thing, like most sensible people, dragons don’t like baths. Unlike most sensible people, dragons breathe real fire, and so getting them to do something they don’t want to is all a matter of tact and bribery.

So it is that when it came Eddie’s turn to dust off their scales, we didn’t know how he was going to do it. If you’ve seen Eddie you’ll know why. If you haven’t, Eddie is a small man with weak shoulders and large eyes. He has a very absent way with him, like he’s there but he isn’t there, too. And as you may imagine, being absent-minded around dragons is not a wise thing to be.

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Candle Dancing


Candle Dancing (200 Words)

She lit the candle. The flame was small at first, like a small glowing drop at the bottom of a waxy mug, before it blossomed to fullness.

“Took you long enough!”

Louise glared. In the shadows and warmth of her dining room, she could just make out the fairy girl.

“Alright,” said Louise, “I have a candle. Now what?”

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Goblins and Lipstick


Goblins and Lipstick (303 Words)

It’s a funny thing when a goblin falls in love with a human, or vice versa. This goblin fell in love with a young man. And although the time spent between them suggested he wasn’t repulsed by her, the goblin wasn’t sure.

She wasn’t a very good-looking goblin. But she had two legs and two arms, and except for the strangeness in her eyes and habits, she wasn’t so different. She and the young man would sit for hours outside her secret home in the woods. But she couldn’t forget how she had startled him when they first met. She never wanted to see him afraid of her again.

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Tournament of Tempers


Tournament of Tempers (536 words)

I would not submit and he knew it. The hard smile faded on Sperling’s lips, but his hand remained on my knee.

“It is yours, is it not?” he questioned again. “Come, speak. You’ve tongue enough for all the world.”

“It is mine, my lord,” I said.

“Then you confess it!” His eyes gleamed. “There are orders, I believe, forbidding you from keeping tokens as this on your person—let alone leaving them at table.”

A childish side of me, rather off topic, wished I would remark the displeasure of attending his table at all. I could not understand the aloofness of the man; his pride, pomp, and pretense left me cold as death and yet he laid it on thicker with me than with anyone.

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Some Things Never Change #writephoto


Some Things Never Change (167 Words)

It was a monument to the transitivity of things. Someone, somewhere, had made this structure of perfect smooth stone. It had survived wars and weather. It had survived its makers. That dome and those stairs had stood for hundreds upon hundreds of years, the cold shell of a memory.


“Eh wha—”

Captain Ratt’s question was stifled by a face full of snow. The twin moles who had thrown the missile fell around each other laughing helplessly.

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