Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Summer Fiction

I have to tell you, guys, that I really had a hard time coming up with something to post. You see, on Friday we had to say goodbye to our little dog, Rita. My parents rescued her from the pound and while she wasn't great at keeping the deer out of the garden, she was a great pet. It's been tough getting over loosing her. Needless to say, I've not felt very creative.

But every situation has the potential to spark an idea. So, before turning you over to the story, let me say that if you want a pet, think about getting one from a shelter. You never know how rescuing an animal will change your life.

Post No. 10: Choices

The final roar of the beast echoed through the hills; the sound seemed to last painfully longer than it should have. When silence fell it fell completely. No man spoke, no animal cried; even the wind stopped churning the branches. Some of the men felt at that moment that a serious misdeed had been done. Others felt that their actions had been warranted. After all, the beast had attacked the settlement and they had to defend themselves.

The thing had been monstrous in stature, as tall as a field horse with a bulk that would put a grizzly to shame. It was a dark beast, like a terror cut straight from the blackest depths of night. It had appeared a week ago, after the clearing had begun on the forest. It swooped down on the newly founded town in the dead of night, tearing log cabins to bits and carrying off livestock.

Still, in the overbearing silence that followed the beast’s death, everyone had to wonder.

Slowly, the sounds of the forest started again. The bird calls were mournful and the insects chided. Amid the reproachful chatter, another sound reached the ears of the hunters. It was a small sound, timid and afraid. Huddled among the fallen trees and cleared brush was a smaller version of the beast that had been killed. Suddenly the beast’s vicious attack made sense. Just as they had protected themselves, she had been protecting herself and her offspring.

The baby’s large, round, pearly black eyes stared at them and most of the hunters, who had families of their own, felt boundless remorse. Only a few dared to suggest killing the baby and even then not with much conviction. No one was sure what should be done.

One man among them stepped forward. Without fear he kneeled and scooped up the orphan monster. The baby was stiff with fright but soon yielded to the warmth and kindness of the man’s embrace. Once the tale was told, his family and the entire town banded together and raised the infant. The baby beast proved to be a faithful guardian for the new town once it had grown. While it regarded all the people as its family, it remained devoted to the man who had saved it.

The man’s name was Dren, and his actions secured the safety and future of his town.


  1. It's not as much what you write about as how you write that impresses me. It seems so effortless and unforced. What a delightful story!

  2. I love how you tied this into how the town was named! And the love of a gentle beast is so endearing! :)

  3. Thanks guys.

    Rita was a sweetie pie once she was given a chance.

  4. what a great little story. i think you should be my creative writing mentor.