Once there was a boy with cake for eyes
Anyone he would meet would say that’s sweet
But he wouldn’t say the same
For all he feels is pain
They took him to a doctor
And they told him the full story
Of how he got cake for eyes.
He was at a birthday
For this day was his worst day
He was getting cake,
And when he cut a slice
He saw some mice.
Aghast he threw his pie
On his eyes
All he sees is whipped cream and his dream
To not have cake for eyes.
This is a small concept for a bigger story. I write these to spark my inspiration for magical and fantasy stories. I recommend doing this because it is fun and helps me find inspiration for stories. This short story is called “The Boy and the Fairy”.
One quiet evening the was a little boy running through a forest. He was barefoot, and was wearing ragged and slightly torn clothes. But he seemed happy. His cheeks were rosy from running for so long, and he started to slow down. As he came to a stop, a strange light flew by him. It wasn’t just any light. It was a welcoming light. It was warm, and seemed to bring joy to the little boy. The boy stared at it, and it seemed to stare back.
The light moved a little to the right. So did the boy. It moved to the left. The boy followed. The light flew deeper into the forest, and the boy stood frozen for a second, and just as fast as the light, he ran into the forest. As he ran, more lights started to join his frantic running. The more he saw, the more excited he became. He came to a sudden stop. He was in a clearing, and in the center of it was a shabby, small cabin.
The boy approached it, and opened the door. Inside was a small bed perfectly his size. There was a table full of food. And best of all, was that the room was full of fairies.
“Thank you.” he proclaimed.
It was late at night and I was tucking my son in to bed. As usual the moment I started to leave the room he said to me
“Can you check for monsters under my bed?”
I sighed. As I bent down on my knees I heard a quiet rustle from under the bed. My son looked at me, absolutely terrified. I snuck look under. And that’s when I saw it. Two glowing yellow eyes, Puffy and spiky fur. Sharp gleaming claws.
“Hey Whiskers” I said to our cat.
I haven’t found many opportunities to write recently, but that is because I have been through a big moving process in my life. In the past few months I have been helping my family move to Bergen. I have been living here for the past three weeks and am adjusting to the new experience. I am going to the Kristi Krybbe Skole, which is theoldest school in all of Scandinavia. I was going to attend in an international school, but my parents decided to immerse me in the Norwegian culture and language. The instruction in my school is all in Norsk. I get by, but it is difficult. The other kids are really nice and know almost fluent English. That is great because it makes it easier to make new friends!
Our house is on the side of a beautiful mountain known as the Floyen. There are many paths up the mountain, but my favorite is known as Tippe Tue. Instead of a paved way up the mountain, it is a gravel path that passes by many mini waterfalls. At the top of the Floyen there is a magnificent view of the whole city of
Bergen, which is a long and rigorous hike up.
The adjustment from America to Norway is probably the hardest thing that I have experienced so far. The two countries are relatively similar to each other compared to other nations, but the hardest thing to adjust to is the new language. Norsk is a very unique language, for it is not in anyway similar to English or any of the romance languages. It has three extra letters (å, ø, æ) in it’s alphabet. I have a Norsk tutor that helps me learn this new language. I will be putting in some sentences that are in Norsk, so stay tuned for a little puzzle!
In the past few weeks I have been reading some interesting books. The titles are Lord of the Flies by William Golding and The Wednesday Wars by Gary D. Schmidt. I decided to write about these books because they left a big impression on me. Even though the books don’t directly talk about it, each of these unique novels present a picture of reality where in the world is truly unfair.
The Lord of the Flies takes place in the Pacific Ocean during the second World War. This novel is about a group of boys stranded on an island trying to survive. In the story of The Lord of the Flies, the boys become savages controlled by an evil force that they think is on the island with them. But they were so wrong. The evil force they feared is in all of us. It is the evil within. It feeds off of a hunger for power. In the book, all of the boys had a chance to work together, but the pursuit of power turned them into savages.
This book had many impactful scenes. The scene that left the most impact on me was when Simon had a hallucination. This critical scene takes place in front of a pig’s head. The boys who had turned into savages left this pig’s head as a sacrifice for the “beast” they think is on the island. This is the moment when Simon talks to the pig head which is a symbol for the “Lord of the Flies”. In his hallucination Simon realizes that the real “Lord of the Flies” is the evil that lurks within everyone. He is soon violently murdered by the boy savages. This made me furious because he understood everything, but it didn’t matter. Even if you know things, the world is still injust.
I also noticed a similar problem when I read the Wednesday Wars. These books are in different time periods, but there is still the same problem of injustice. I noticed that people’s values are very different to people’s today. The main character Holling, who is seventh grade, had a dad who didn’t care about his family and only cared about his business. He kept pushing Holling to inherit it and that is what his life will be. Holling’s sister however never got any respect. Her father said she can’t go to college, and she will work for him. Holling’s sister went to California to find herself against her father’s will, and her dad pronounced that she isn’t his daughter and he should not help her. If Holling hadn’t sent her money, she would have been stuck in California with no place to stay and no money. This novel made me see that even though women are strong and good people, they were treated unfairly throughout history.
Cruelty is like a permanent stain on humankind. By reading these books I learned that it doesn’t matter if you are a man or a woman or a boy or a girl of any race, you can still be cruel and people can be cruel to you. The human race can change, but it will take more than a hunger for power to help us.
I am replying to your letter from last week. I also wanted to tell you that if you are gointo deliver me a letter, do not do it on the back of a unicorn. It’s “disguise” did not work at all. It only made the unicorn more obvious. People started to call the cops, and I had to get the unicorn to run away, which is much harder than it actually sounds.
I am very thankful that I can help you Aris. I had a great time helping arganee, and now that it is safe, I feel good about your future. M told me that when you traveled here you used the door. Why didn’t you pop out in our classroom? In your letter you said that there was a past gateway that made Arganee “explosive”. There are a lot of bad people online, and that can be a major problem. Was it people abusing the network that caused Arganee to become explosive? Or was their a bad alchemist controlling it? Also, Tokyo isn’t in the Bronx but Japan, and Cambridge is in England, not the U.S. You really need to take Earth studies. You have a lot to learn Aris, but that is ok. Me too.
I do have quite a bit to learn. Here are the some of things I learned in Networked Narratives and also in my travels to Arganee:
- I learned how to make memes and gifs.
- I learned how to use twitter in a responsible and fun way
- I learned how to use a hashtag to connect
- I learned how to build a thoughtful blog
- I learned how to use a network
- I learned how to write blackout poetry
- I learned how to do improv and netprov
- I learned the beginnings of digital alchemy
- I learned how to make a character who is like me, but also really different than me
- I learned how to connect with other people
- I learned how to use Hypothes.is
- I learned how to share in a webinar
- I learned how to make and edit sound files
- I learned how to participate in a twitter chat
- I learned how to “Cook with Anger”
- I learned how to write in different digital spaces
- I learned how to collaborate with other people to make a bigger story
I learned a lot in #NetNarr. I am glad I participated in it,. Every Wednesday I would wake up and look forward to it. I am so happy I was the first kid to ever participate in it. I am sad that it is “paused for now”, but next year I will be able to help other kids be a part of the alchemy. I will try to keep the hashtag alive with some posts here and there.
Joining Networked Narratives was one of the best things I ever did.
Thank you NetNarr for the digital alchemy. Thank you Arganee for the fun.
The other day while I was eating a cookie, I received a strange letter arriving pinned on the back of a unicorn. This unicorn had a sign on it that said “Normal Human Animal”. I think my alchemist friend from Arganee needs to take a class on Earth species. Anyway, the letter was quite peculiar:
My goaafy friend,
I am writing to tell you that I am thankful for your help. Rebeg contacted me and the other alchemists to tell us the results of our mission. It turns out that everybody survived and the planet is thriving. Thanks to your contributions, arganee has new connections and knowledge.
I visited Earth the other day and decided to travel around. Yesterday I flew in that flying metal bird you call a plane. Looks like some futuristic torture device, made to break a human’s mind. I sat there for 6 hours to end up in the wrong place. Isn’t Tokyo in the Bronx? I ended up in some strange place called New York City in Europe. And then when I tried to get to Kean University for the party, I ended up in Cambridge.
Rebeg contacted me and said that there is a rip in the time continuum. I don’t know where it is, but hopefully in a more hidden place than last time. It supposedly is a direct gateway from arganee to Earth. The last gate was the reason why arganee became “explosive.”
Tomorrow I am going to collect a box of Earth items and traditions to take home with me. Hopefully they will be beneficial on our kind. I like that
game you play. It is called Team Fortress 2, right?
Your world is strange, but has a good vibe. You and your oth
er goaafy friends will be remembered as heroes (I think. I have to wait for M’s approval). I have to say goodbye now. Arganee needs me. But I will see you soon. Peace out!
From your magical friend,
When I was celebrating my grandparent’s 50th anniversary, I wrote them a special poem. I thought of our family tree when writing it. The poem’s name uses a promise as a metaphor for the seed of the great tree.
Fifty years ago a seed was planted. That seed was a promise. Nobody thought much of that seed. Hundreds of seeds are planted everyday. But this one was unique.
From that seed grew trust and love. That seedling became a sapling, and that sapling became a family. And after time the sapling grew into a great tree.
A great tree is our legacy. When the wind whips and moans, a devastating gust hits the tree, the roots provide strength and hope. When the sky goes dark, the tree is a safe haven for all things. On a hot summer day, it’s leaves are a shady refuge protecting us. A tree is life and growth. Nana and Grandpa are our roots and structure. They are our tree.
All great trees bear fruit. We are the next generation, and we are also promises.
by Jude Morgan
May 13, 2017
Here is a video that celebrates the promise of our family.
This week in NetNarr I befriended an imaginative alchemist named Aris Anastos (@Aris_Anastos). He seemed to be from the dying world of #arganee. He wrote a flavorful story for me called “A Pinch of Homesickness”:
A Pinch of Homesickness
1/8 whisper of disapproval
1/4 pinch of homesickness
One day a 17 year old boy was walking down the street, dreaming of becoming an archaeologist. He was just about to be home when he saw a tattoo shop. He thought to himself why not check it out. When he went into the shop, he noticed a strange symbol on the sample board. That would look cool on me, he said to himself.
45 minutes later he came out of the shop and started to walk home to find his mom worried sick. “Where have you been!? Your dinner is…” She paused and looked down at his tattoo. “…is on the table.” The boy sat down and started eating. “What is in this soup?” he asked. His mom responded by saying “Some coriander and ⅛ a whisper of disapproval.” His cheeks turned a bright shade of red, for even though he felt no pain when he got the tattoo, he didn’t realise the pain might be felt by others.
The next day in school his teacher stopped him at the door. “Where did you get that tattoo?” She asked. He then responded “At the new tattoo store.” She then she said with a seriousness on her face “That symbol you chose is an ancient sign that means that the wearer seeks something. Perhaps what you seek is buried in the past.” The boy was puzzled. The whole school day he was thinking about what his teacher said. He decided to leave home to dig up the past in search of artifacts, traces, and more whispers.
When he arrived at his apartment a bottle of champagne was sitting at the table. “What was there to celebrate?” he thought to himself. The label said “MADE WITH ¼ A PINCH OF HOMESICKNESS”. All of these signs seemed to foretell his departure, like his life was controlled by a divine force.
He placed a note on the table that expressed his regrets. He took one last glance at the apartment, then left.