Looking for a Story

Once upon a time, Ella worked as a maid for her stepmother and step-sister who were incredibly wicked. Ella dreams of a better life. "Well no duh. Wouldn't you if you are practically a servant in your own home?" Ella looked up towards the roof. You can hear me? The narrator had never had a character interrupt him before. "Yes I can hear you." she rolled her eyes," Don't get me in trouble, ya hear." Of course. Back to the story. Ella often dreamed of a better life, and little did she know her life was just about to change. "Yeah right." Ella chucked as a letter fell through the mail slot. "Just a coincidence, Ella whipped her hands on her apron and collected the letter. "It's from the Palace!" She whispered as she ran her hand over the royal seal. She rang the bell and her stepmother came out of her office. "Here Miss, it’s from the Palace." Ella bowed. Her stepmother snatched the letter from her. "Alexandra!" Her spoiled brat of a sister came running. "Yes, mother?" "We have received a letter from the Palace." Alexandra gave out a high-pitched shreek. "Hush!" The stepmother scolded. "To the ladies of this house, the prince is in want of a wife. All eligible you ladies are to attend the royal ball held in three days!" "Mother! A ball!" Alexandra was practically vibrating. "We must go get you a new gown." The stepmother looked at Ella with a sneer. "I hope you don't accept to be allowed to go." "No stepmother. I don't." Ella bowed. "We are low on supplies for the week may I go to town and collect what we need?" Her stepmother stood smugly." Good. I suppose I can allow it. Don't delay!" Her stepmother called a carriage for herself and Alexandra. While Ella hooked her horse up to the old cart and headed to town. Ella longed to go to the ball, but alas her life was not her own - "I don't really care about the ball.” Ella rudely interrupts the narrator. What do you mean you don't want to go to the ball? That is what your whole life has been leading to! "My whole life? Really? Isn't that a touch dramatic?" The narrator ignored Ella’s comment. Ella made her way through the down and headed to her favourite shop. It was run by an old friend of her father's. "Hello, Mr. Ken. How is business?" "Oh same old, same old, Ella dear. And how are you fairing?" The man gave her a kind smile. "As good as I can be. I've come for the usual." She handed him the list. "It will take me a moment to collect everything if you would like Thomas is in the backroom." Mr. Ken winked. Who is Thomas? He's not in my story! The narrator frantically searched his notes. "He's my best friend," Ella spoke in a low tone so as to not alert the shopkeep, unaware of the blush creeping across her cheeks. Wait blush? No! You can't like this boy! That is not the story. Ella ignored the narrator and entered the backroom. "Tommy." she quickened her pace. "Ellie!" He set the crate he was unloading down just in time to pick her up and spin her around. "The step monster let you out today?" "She did, Alexandra needs a new dress for a ball to try and be the prince's bride." Ella rolled her eyes. “Oh really? Are you going to attend?" Thomas leaned on the crate trying to play it cool. "Ha no! Like the step monster would let me anyway." She took his hand, "But it could be the perfect opportunity." Thomas's eyes lit up, "You think? But… what about your father's estate? You’d never get back at her for wrecking your life." Ella squeezes his hand, "What better way to get back at her than to live my life as a happy little shopkeeper's wife?" She stands up on her tip toes and he quickly kisses her before his father can see. "I will make the arrangements." He could hardly contain his excitement. "You have three days." Ella hugs him tight. "That is perfect.” Thomas started pacing, “The new store is almost ready to open and Father wants me to go run it… You can come with me! I can find you someone to stay with until we can wed! Then we will make the home above the store!” Ella watched him pace with a love-sick grin, “That sounds amazing, it’s not like I have much to pack so I'll easily sneak it out to the stable, then the night of the ball you can come to save me.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “I always hoped I’d be the one to save you.” “I always knew you would be.” She kissed his hand and stepped away just as Mr. Ken peeked his head back. “Your load is ready Ella dear.” He gestured for her to join him again. Ella smiled at Thomas, “See you soon. I’ll wait up by the kitchen window.” She whispered. Ella road back home. You can’t be serious about this. He’s a shopboy! You could have a prince! Ella laughed, “Sure. Look I’ve loved Thomas since I was ten. I will be with him. And there is nothing you can do about it.” She shrugged. Over the next three days, the narrator tried everything to get Ella to follow the plot and every time she refused. She wouldn’t restore her mother's old dress, she wouldn’t ask her stepmother about being allowed to go instead she packed to leave. And to make matters worse, the prince who the narrator was also dealing with also refused to follow the plot! He was excited about the ball and was using it to choose a noblewoman he’d met and fallen in love with. But the narrator had a plan! The day of the ball approached and all three parties set their plans in motion, Ella waited by the window with bated breath for Thomas to come, no chance for the fairy grandmother to appear. The prince danced with his beloved noble. Thomas picked up Ella and as they rode through the darkness, the narrator redirected their path, so that as the prince and his noblewomen slipped into the garden for a moment alone the runways pass by. The narrator spooked the carriage's horses so they stopped, Ella and Thomas got out of the carriage to calm the horses and the prince made eye contact with Ella and… “To true love!” The prince raised his glass. “To true love!” Ella curtsied before she grabbed Thomas by the shirt and kissed him like she might not get another chance. The prince pulled his noble close and they too shared a powerful kiss of true love. The narrator finally gives in and lets the love birds have their happy ending even if it wasn’t the story that was planned…

Pepper sits in her spot on the spice rack. Along with all the other spices Becca's mother had bought her when she moved. Well, almost all... "Babe!" Solomon the Salt Shaker called from the countertop.  "Hey baby!" she smiles.  “I miss you!" He calls out.  Pepper listens to the other spices groan. "I miss you too, "she says softly. She looks at the space on the spice rack. He was supposed to be here, to be next to her. But he hadn’t been since Becca and her mom filled all the spice jars. Becca's only seemed to use salt and nothing else. Pepper can't figure out why she and the other spices didn't matter as much. Were they a problem?  “I wish she'd put me away when she is done with me." Solomon sighs heavily. Before Pepper can respond, Becca pulls him off the counter and back to the table for who knows how long. Pepper feels a familiar longing well up inside and maybe a tinge of jealousy too. She hates being away from him but also hates feeling useless. Salt and pepper were supposed to be together. And Becca seems determined to keep them apart. Was Pepper just not good at her job?  Becca finishes eating and leaves Solomon on the table. Pepper's heartaches, she just wants to be with him. Weeks go by and Pepper hardly sees Solomon.  However, one day Becca enters the kitchen more dressed up than normal and cooks more food than usual.  All the spices watch with baited breath will she use them? She didn't but she did set the table. Becca walks over and hesitantly grabs Pepper and sets her on the table. Soloman smiles. Who was coming that Becca put her on the table?  "Hello, my love." Solomon smiles, "You're here." “I am! Do you know why?” Pepper enjoys being close to her love.  Before Solomon can give her his guess, there is a knock at the door. "I bet that's the reason."  A gentleman walks through the door, "Welcome Tony. I just pulled dinner out of the oven."  The man hugs her, "Can't wait, my dear, I've been looking forward to seeing your lovely home."  They take a seat at the table. Pepper notices the look on Tony's face as he looks at the food. He says nothing though and fills his plate, they eat in silence for a moment before Tony reaches for Pepper and adds it to his food. Pepper looks down at Solomon, she is useful! Solomon winks at her, beaming proudly. "Darling?" Tony starts gently. Becca glances across the table, “Do... well… um... When we go out to eat you don't ask questions about allergies or anything. so..." He pauses as if hoping she will finish his question for him, but she doesn’t. "So why is salt the only thing on this?” He tilts his head to the kitchen, “You have a full spice rack."  Becca puts her fork down." I... I don't know how to use them... and I hate wasting food.”  Tony lets out a sad chuckle and shakes his head. "Next week darling, we will eat here again and I will help you learn how to use what's in your house." He takes another bite, "Because you’ve got too much potential as a chef to have bland food!”  Tony and Becca laugh and flirt for hours. Pepper and Soloman do too. That night they were even placed back on the spice rack together.  Over the next few weeks, the kitchen became full of life. The spices sometimes just stay on the counter but no matter how crazy the kitchen got, Pepper and Solomon would enjoy a quiet night at the table while Tony and Becca sat and talked about their day.  "I'm glad I'm at your side where I belong." Pepper smiles at Solomon as the sun sets and the world feels complete.

Belle and Aurora couldn't be more different. Belle was loud and filled a room; Aurora was quiet and would happily avoid a crowded room. For sisters, they couldn’t be more opposite. Even when they were similar in a way, they were also different: both were bookworms, but they wouldn't be caught dead reading the same book. Both were skilled riders. Belle was a performance flyer; she and her dragon were graceful as they did flips and tricks. Aurora and her dragon were racers; Aurora could speed through every obstacle course with ease. They were both record-breakers. Aurora went to Belle's shows and found them to be like watching paint dry. Belle hated race day; it was hot and long and oddly too loud for the louder sister. The girls got along well enough that their mother didn’t worry, but they were not friends. They had their moments though. "Hey Belle, I'm going to feed Spitfire, want me to feed Glits while I'm at it?" Aurora called from the backdoor. "Oh that's nice of you, but I was just getting ready to head to the pen myself.” Belle paused. “Want some company?" Belle finished lacing her shoes. "Oh um, ya sure." Aurora slung her bag over her shoulder. Belle kicked a rock down the well-worn path. "So, um…Mom was telling me, you moved up another level in racing?" "Oh yeah! I am! Or at least I'm running the trial." Aurora beamed, and as an older sister Belle felt proud. "You're still working on that drop trick right? "Yeah… or at least I was.” Belle kicked the rock hard, and it disappeared into the grass. “Last practice the safety rider had to catch me. So Coach is making us take a break." Belle looked away, her face tinged pink with embarrassment. Aurora now felt awkward for asking. "Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't... But that's like the hardest trick, isn't it? Like only a handful of riders can do it?" Belle straightened up. "Yep. I'm gonna get it! I trust Glits to catch me. She's just not quick enough yet! But I know she will."' Aurora looked at her older sister, impressed. "Of course you'll get it! You and Glits are a strong pair.” "So are you and Spitfire." As if on cue, the dragons heard their riders and raced toward them. "Hello, ladies!" The girls laughed as the dragons landed next to them. The dragons nuzzled their owners. The girls led their dragons back to the pens. They worked on cleaning their dragons and giving them their meals. Soon they were on their way back to the house, when Belle looked over at Aurora. "Is your coach pulling a name to go to the hatching?" "Yeah, tomorrow. Yours?” Aurora picked up a weed and slowly pulled it apart. Belle nodded. "Think one of us will get chosen?" Aurora paused. "I have one more year left in the club, so I hope it's you." Belle smiled at her sister. "Thanks, kid. I know Mom is hoping we can go together." “A whole road trip just the two of us alone?" Aurora scoffed. "Sounds like a death trap." The girls couldn’t help but laugh. *** The next afternoon the girls stood with their clubs. "Alright, everyone gather around! " The racing coach called. "As you know, it's time for the dragon's eggs to hatch!" The performance coach smiled as there was a murmur of excitement. "It's time to see who gets to join the dragon protection squad on their trip!" Each coach pulled a name out of a hat. "Belle and Aurora." The sisters looked at each other from across the field - this could be a long trip. Later at home, their mom went on and on about how great a bonding experience it was going to be for them. But the girls were worried. They didn't enjoy travelling together at the best of times. But this was a once in a lifetime experience, and they were each riding their own dragons… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. So the girls silently packed their bags, working off the list they'd been given. The day of the trip arrived and they headed off with the protection squad. After a bit of chatting with the other members, the girls ended up at the back of the pack, riding in awkward silence. "This is crazy," was all Belle could think to say. "The trip or us?" Aurora teased. "Both!” Belle laughed. Aurora fiddled with the reigns of her dragon. "You mentioned that Glitz wasn't moving quick enough for that trick?" She paused. "What if I worked with you guys? I mean, I'm as speedy as you are graceful."' "You would do that?" Belle looked at Glitz. "Think it would help?" "I mean it can't hurt. Right? Maybe you can help us.'' Aurora stroked Spitfire's neck. "I'm sure a little grace wouldn't hurt as in the races." "Might make you more appealing to the pros," Belle teased. "Miss record-breaker!” "Maybe some grace will keep my penalties to a minimum." Aurora giggled. "If you nail that trick you would be a shoe in for Gliders." "You know, if we both make the teams, I'll forever be at race day and you'll always have to watch me perform." The girl's laughter caused a few members of the squad to look back at them. "Wo-would that be so bad?" Aurora looked out at her sister. “I mean... No. No it wouldn't. If we both make it." Belle picked at the scales of her dragon. "Hey, if we don't make the pros, we can always use our skills in other ways." Aurora offered gently. "I know, I just always wanted to be one of them." Belle sighed. Aurora flew closer and put her hand on Belle's shoulder. Belle touched Aurora’s hand, and as the tender moment came to an end the horn was blown, signalling their arrival. "Woah! Belle, look!" "I'm seeing! I'm seeing!" In front of them was a field of untamed dragons, tending to eggs. Whatever came next, the girls knew this moment was going to live with them forever.

In a world where everyone goes on quests, Nadia noticed that everyone has to pay when they run low on morale. They have to buy special food or a potion to get them a moral boost. That didn't sit right with Nadia. She had a rare gift; she could see how close to burnout people were. She also came from a line of healers. So she made a choice: she would travel around and give people the boost they needed, no questions asked. She had a few landing places, and if a rich traveller insisted on paying she wouldn't refuse. After all, having some gold on hand was useful when trading for her skill for supplies wasn’t an option. A hot meal was placed in front of Nadia. "Thank you for healing my boy, ma’am. I wasn't sure I could get to the next town before he ran out…” She reached out and touched the man’s arm. "It's okay, you don't have to worry about that now. Just be sure to buy some tonics when you're in town next. I'm not sure his problem won't return." Yes, the boy's problem was physical but his emotions seemed damaged. "You know why I am on the road; tell me, why are you?" The man took a few bites of his meal. "My wife passed early this year, and this was our dream - to travel. So my son and I have taken on small quests to fund our trips. We are heading home now.” Ah, grief and anger. "I can't heal that hurt for your son, unfortunately. But here - " she pulled a small vile out of her bag. "Mix no more than three drops in your tea or coffee until the vile is empty; it should help with the heartache." "I couldn't take more from you, ma’am." He tried to push Nadia's hand away. "I insist, sir. It will help both of you. A warm meal and protection for tonight is thanks enough." She placed the vile next to him with a gentile smile. "I guess it's true what they say about the magic healer." His smile felt more real. As the stars came out, the two finished their meal and Nadia slept under the stars, like always. When morning came, she slipped away before the two woke up. She wasn't in need of supplies, so she could keep on the move. By mid-morning she had cut through the forest and was already on another path. She kept a sharp eye out for someone in need. Soon she noticed a young woman who was also travelling alone. Nadia saw immediately that her support bar was low. Nadia approached slowly. "Are you alone as well?" "Oh! Yes, you could say that. I was with a party but got lost. So I'm trying to find Ock’s Edge. But I fear I am even more lost." The woman chucked. "Well, you are in luck; I have spent my life wandering in these forests. I can take ya." Nadia extended her hand. "Nadia.” “Ivy." The woman shook Nadia's hand. The women walked a while, chatting about their separate adventures. After a while, Nadia observed, "I can’t help but notice you haven’t drunk anything since we met; are you out of water? I have some to spare if you’d like.” “I am out, that would be great.” Ivy offered her canteen. Nadia filled hers from her spare canteen. Ivy quickly took a drink. “Wow, I was more parched than I thought.” Nadia watched her support bar rise a bit. “Do you need a pick-me-up as well? I have a few snacks in my bag.” Ivy looked at her. “You are very willing to help… That has not been the normal on my quests; even the party I am with isn’t the most helpful.” Nadia pulled one of the special snacks from her bag. “I come from a family of healers who took to the road; I like to help when I can.” Ivy took the snack with some hesitancy. “Thank you.” She slowly ate it, her eyes widened, and her health bar filled to the top. “You’re the healer!” “At your service. You figured that out quicker than most.” Nadia gave a little bow. “You saved my mom - it was seven years ago. You probably don’t even remember it.” Ivy opened a locket, showing a photo of her mom. “I met you on the road during the plague. You two were trying to get your father’s station. She collapsed on the road… Your cries got my attention. I see your life hasn’t been any easier.” Nadia slowed and looked at Ivy closely. Ivy shook her head, and Naida brought her in for a hug. “Sometimes hugs are more healing than you know.” “Thank you.” Ivy whispered so softly that it could barely be heard over the forest. “Do you have to join your party in Ock’s Edge?” Nadia led them to the side of the trail. “No… They’ll probably be happier if I don’t rejoin them.” Ivy picked up a leaf from the forest floor. “But I don’t have a home to go back to; I need to take quests to afford to survive.” Nadia smiled. “Then I have an offer for you: become my apprentice.” “What do you mean?” Ivy tilted her head. “While I do have a gift for knowing what people need, I believe it can be taught, and I’m not getting any younger…” Nadia extended a hand. “What do you say?” “I’ll try.” Ivy extended her hand, and a new adventure began.

If I had known being Earth Quaker's favourite reporter would make me the target of so many kidnappings, I would have never flirted back with him. I don’t even know his identity and yet they keep taking me. My boss is getting fed up. And honestly? So am I . I miss the days when I could drive my car to work; these days I have to ride my bike to work, and even then I still have to look over my shoulder constantly. Just as I round the corner my bike is encased in sludge. “Oh no.” I wince. It’s Swamp Sleeper, my least favourite villain. He’s a literal trash monster. I believe he had been a janitor at a science lab; he’d been the unfortunate victim of the wrong place, wrong time. “Oh yes, Kitty Carter. And this time, Earth Quaker won’t save you.” Before I can even run, I feel the cold, slimy vines from his trashmobile, wrapping around me and pulling me into the trunk. “Not again!” I cry out as the trunk slams shut. The stench is awful, and I feel my new dress is stained. Worst of all, I have to listen to Mr. Sleeper singing over the speakers, which is a fate worse than death. Eventually, the car slows and I know we have arrived where Sleeper thinks the battle will take place. The trunk opens and Sleeper looks down at me with a nasty grin. “Ah, Miss Kitty! I’m so grateful you could join me today!” “Like I had a choice!” I snap back as he picks me up. I try to wiggle free, but it’s hopeless. He clamps me to a conveyor belt with a freaky trash compactor-looking thing at the end. Sleeper pokes my nose and I can’t help but cringe at his touch. “Ever sarcastic, Miss Kitty. But that attitude won’t help you here.” I say nothing; instead, I look around, trying to find a hiding spot for once I get out of this. I refuse to be a useless damsel; if I can free myself I do, or once Quaker frees me I do my best to get out of the way or even help if I can. The trash yard doesn’t offer many hiding spaces, but some turned-over couches will do in a pinch. Feeling settled with that, I try to figure out what Sleeper's plan is. He’s giddily bouncing between two red buttons on pedestals. That can’t be good. Before I can fully figure out what the plan is, Earth Quaker shows up. “So the hero arrives!” Swamp Sleeper bellows. “But have you come to save your beloved Kitty…?” he points to one button. “...Or your precious city?” Sleeper presses the two and suddenly the conveyor belt starts moving and the trash compactor roars to life. “Quake!” I despise the shill in my voice, but I see no way out with him. “Kit!” He rushes toward me. Only for a pile of trash to flow in front of him. “Not so fast here,” Sleeper snarls. “The only way to save her is to push this button.” A pile of trash lifts one of the buttons high above us. “But stop her demise and blow up the city. But save the city and the clamps will release Kitty to…well, her end.” Sleeper’s maniacal laughter fills the trash yard and he takes off in his trashmobile. The trash pile blocking my view of Earth Quaker falls. “Kitty…” his face is soft. “No.” I watch his eyes looking at the high button. “Quake, you can’t. I’m not worth the city.” He puts on his charming smile. “But I can’t lose my best girl.” “Enough! Quaker I’m not your best girl! I’m your target! I miss work, I get a new wardrobe every month. I have to stop driving my car to work because of the risks! I can’t even get a date! I wanted to be a reporter, not your damsel!” I feel my body shaking, and I can’t tell if the heat is from my anger or the trash compactor. Quaker freezes, the shock etched on his face. “I never thought of it that way. I’ll figure something out.” He looks around. “For the record, I don’t view you as a damsel, I feel like you are a teammate.” Before I can answer his face lights up. “I’ve got it! “ He races to the button for the city; one hand rests over it, and the other starts to lift to the ground. I look at him, and we nod. He hits the button and I feel myself plummet, but before I hit the fire, I hit a rock that Quaker has shot out under me. I leap off the rock and race along the rock toward the couches. Quaker glances back at me, gives me a small wave, and takes off to stop Swamp Sleeper. After he disappears into the horizon, I can’t help but notice that I’m sitting in a puddle. Not just any puddle but one that is glowing green. “I don’t think I’ll be a damsel any longer.”

Little Jenny slides down the banister to find balloons and a present on the kitchen counter. “Happy Birthday!” her parents cheer. “Thank you!” She gives them each a hug. They guide her to the table where her mom places a stack of pancakes in front of her with a candle on top. “Go ahead, baby, make a wish!” Jenny’s eyes go wide. “I get two wishes today?” Her dad laughs loudly. “Sure thing, Sport!” Jenny closes her eyes and whispers, “I wish I could ride a dragon.” *** Solomon opens his eyes. “Here you are, my boy! Your own dragon!” His dad beams with pride. Solomon looks at his dad. “We can afford two dragons?” His dad squeezes his shoulder. “Do you think I’m ready?” Solomon slowly approaches his dragon, who lowers its head to let Solomon pet his nose. “I’d say so. Come on, let's go for a ride.” The two saddle their dragons; Solomon is surprised by how well his dragon listens to him. His Dad approaches on his dragon. “I knew she was meant for you. She doesn't have a name yet - that will be all up to you. Ya ready?” Solomon gets up in the saddle. “I hope so.” Together they take to the sky. “Yahoo!” Solomon cheers as they fly through the air. His dragon takes off ahead of his dad’s older dragon as if to challenge them to the race. “Oh, it’s a race, my boy?” His dad playfully taunts, taking off at a speed the younger dragon can’t maintain. In trying to keep up, Solomon accidentally does some spins. He feels more alive than he ever has before. He and the dragon gracefully land next to his dad on a cliff. “Woah, that looked like a whirlwind of a ride!” his dad teases and helps him out of the saddle. “That’s her name! Whirlwind.” Solomon strokes her nose. “Think I could be a trick rider?” His dad looks down. “I'm sure you could if I could afford to not have you working. But I need your help-” Solomon puts a hand on his dad's shoulder. “So, we’ll work for it.” His dad hands him a stone. “It’s your birthday. Whisper your wish and send it away, and we’ll see if it comes true.” Solomon knows this is childish but he does it anyway. He cups the stone in his hands and whispers. “I wish that Dad and I could be rich.” He closes his eyes and tosses the stone. *** Vicki stretches as the room fills with light. “Good morning, Princess.” Her lady-in-waiting bows. “Your parents left you a letter.” With a flick of Vicki’s wrist, the letter floats towards her. She opens it. Happy Birthday, Victoria. So sorry but your Father and I needed a break from court. So we’ve taken your brother and will be back in a few days; then we will give you a proper party. We will not forget this year, I promise! Do not worry about kingdom affairs; your father's advisers will handle everything. Do not forget to practise your magic, my little enchantress. Your parents. Vicki crumples the letter and incinerates it with a flick of her wrists. “Was that really necessary, princess?” Her lady-in-waiting suppresses a giggle. “You know they both hated that I was a girl, and they go away every year on my birthday and never remember to celebrate it. If I hadn’t had magic powers they’d never bother to see me.” Her lady doesn’t argue. Vicki gets out of bed, and with a snap of her fingers she is ready for the day. “I will never understand why they hired me. You don’t need a lady-in-waiting.” “So I don’t run away,” Vicki says plainly. “They know I’d never leave at the risk of you getting hurt.” Her lady smiles. “You would cast a spell so they can’t hurt me, or send me somewhere they’d never find me.” “Once I’m strong enough. I won’t be the enchantress locked in a tower until they can marry her off to make things easier for the son they wanted.” Vicki knows she’s bitter, but what else could she do? “I’d like to be alone.” Her lady hesitates. “But it’s your birth-” “Don’t remind me!” Vicki cuts her off. She then composes herself. “Sorry. Please leave me alone for now. I need to be in good spirits for the party tonight.” Her lady winks. “Party? There is no party.” She slips out of the room as Vicki heads to her balcony and sits on the railing. She flicks her wrist and a chocolate cupcake appears in her hand. “Good thing Mother is not here.” As she enjoys her breakfast, she looks at her hands. “Someday, I’ll be strong enough that, when I clap my hands, you’ll take me to a place where I am wanted and my wish to be loved will come true.” She closes her eyes to dream. *** Axel blinks as he enters the neon streets. He walks through the streets as everyone speeds by, talking on their microchips. He watches as the circuit board glows beneath his feet, powering the city and everyone around him. In a world of circuit boards and tech, he ducks into a small alleyway and the hum of the city dies down. As he walks, the neon lights fade and the homes slowly get less and less techy. Where he lives, you have to get up to turn off the lights. The circuit boards turn into broken pavement paths and old solar-powered cars sit in driveways, hardly used but still the best options when the bullet train is down. Nature still grows here, not like in the heart of the city. This is where the poor live, and he’ll never move his family out of here. His kids might, but not in his lifetime. He walks into the old house; it’s dark. As the door clicks shut, light fills the room. “Surprise, Daddy!” His kids race toward him and tackle him to the ground. “It’s your brffday!” his youngest beams. “Yes, it is!” He pokes her nose, and she giggles. “We baked you a cake!” His son points to the counter, where a cake sits and his stands wife waiting. “Baked? Babe, that must have cost-” She helps him up and silences him with a kiss. “Real cakes will always be better than that stuff they sell at the bakery.” She rolls her eyes. He smiles; he married the right woman, that is for sure. Wrapped in his arms, she smiles back; she loves the life they have. “Now make a wish so we can get these kids some cake and get them to bed.” Axel looks at the candles and blows them out. “I wish that this feeling never ends.”

Miley could hear the whispers at her reception. Everyone placing bets on how long her marriage will last. Thomas, her now husband, places his hand on her shoulder, “I can’t wait to prove them all wrong.” he whispers into her ear causing her to giggle. “I just wish they believed in us as much as I do.” She turns towards him and buries her face into his chest. He kisses the top of her head. “Alright, enough of listening to this.” He picks her up and carries her out of the room. Everyone hoots and hollers, Miley blushes and hides her face in his shoulder. Once they are in the getaway car, “Always so dramatic.” she chuckles. “Only for you, my wallflower.” He leans over and kisses her. Weeks after the wedding, when they are unpacked, “So now that we have the house set up - can we host a dinner party?” Thomas asks while Miley cleans the dishes. “You really want to, don’t you?” She stops washing and gives him her full attention. “Nothing huge, just a few other couples, some pizza and some games?” He looks at her so sweetly. “You have to help with the setup and the clean up. You know how tiring I find those parties.” She glances around the house. “I know babe, and I promise I will help and if you need to check out early I will back you.” He steps toward her and tilts her head to look up at him, “Always.” She blushes, “You’re so smooth.” She covers her burning cheeks. “Only for you.” He winks. “I’ll even make the pizza from scratch for our friends.” She pokes his nose and returns to the dishes. Soon the day of the party arrives. Miley makes the pizza, Thomas picks up the pop and sets out the games. “Looks amazing babe.” He chuckles and pulls her in close, “Oh! And the pizza looks great too.” “Thomas!” She lets out a squeal then the doorbell rings. “Go get the door, smooth talker.” She shoos him away, while she pulls herself together. Soon the house is full of conversation and laughter. “Miley you sure are an amazing cook” Harvey comments. “Yeah! You got lucky there Tommy, cute and can cook.” Nacey, Harvey's wife teases. “The luckiest.” Thomas catches her hand and kisses it. She blushes, excuses herself to the kitchen, and quickly cuts up that chocolate cake she made earlier. She hears snippets of the conversation happening at the table. “I’m surprised she let you host a get-together like this. She’s such a homebody. I didn’t think we’d ever see you again after you tied the knot.” Joseph sounds like he is trying to make a joke, but the table goes silent. “Dude. We hosted together. We did the work together. She is my wife. I chose her just like she chose me. Sure I like to go out more than she does. But I love her. Don’t belittle her.” Thomas is firm but still kind. Miley feels like she should save him, “I made cake!” she walks in holding the freshly cut cake and acts like she heard nothing. The party resumes and fun is had by all. Shortly after everyone leaves, “Hey why don’t you go rinse off, I’ll clean up down here.” Thomas offers, “You look like you could use a minute or two alone.” “Thanks love.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. His words keep replaying over and over in her mind. He had defended her to their friends, she loves this man. She steps out of the bathroom, and he isn’t in the bedroom, she walks downstairs and finds him sitting on the couch, “I thought we could watch something before bed?” “Is this for me or you?” Miley teases as she sits down. “Maybe both?” he pulls her in close. “I’m still feeling riled up, and a movie and a little cuddling might just be enough to help me sleep.” “I think I can handle that.” She pulls a blanket over them. The movie has barely made it to the end of Act One before he dozes off. She pauses the movie and traces the ring on his finger, “I heard you today, you know.” She waits, but he doesn’t react. “You defended me to our friends. I appreciate that a lot. I knew you would, but it was nice to hear.” He sleepily pulls her close, “Always.” “Come on, sleepy head, let's climb up the stairs.” She gently pulls him from the couch. A few months later, while Miley is getting ready to host her book club, her phone rings, “Hey love, ready for book club?” she smiles at hearing Thomas's voice. “I think so! You’re good with coming home late?” Miley finishes moving the last of the furniture around. “Yep! I won’t disturb the peace.” he snickers. Miley rolls her eyes, “Thank you love.” He hangs up the phone, just as her first guest shows up. Book club runs late, and she and the girls are giggling and having fun, “Hey ladies.” Thomas enters the house, strolls up to Miley and kisses her, “I’ll just grab a snack and hide upstairs.” Miley blushes and nods, I’ll try not to be too long.” She watches him head to the kitchen. Her book club shares looks and tries not to laugh. “I still can’t believe you married a man like that,” Val says between unsuccessfully hidden laughs. “What do you mean?” Miley looks at Val. “He’s so…” Val gestures at all of Miley, “Not like you. He’s just so out there. And you so… not.” she chuckles. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? Or an insult? Because I love that man. He’s wonderful. He’s wonderful. He’s helped me come out of my shell.” Miley looks firmly at Val. Harper gets them back on track and they wrap up rather quickly. Miley gathers up the dishes and heads to the kitchen, where Thomas meets her, “You didn’t go upstairs.” She can only think to say as he takes the stack of dishes away from her. “I was going to, then I heard my wife defending me. And it was very sweet.” He starts washing the dishes. “Think it will ever stop?” Miley leans against the counter. “What will?” Thomas looks over at her. “People questioning why we got together.” She looks back at him. “I mean maybe? People will always wonder why we picked each other, But I kinda like defending you and hearing you defend me.” He splashes the dish water on her. She grabs his hand, “Yeah, I guess it’s not so bad.”

I remember the day he brought me home from the store. He talked about the new story he was preparing to write. And I was going to be the home for all the ideas for this new world…. He sets me down on his desk and pulls out a brand-new pen. He sits down and stares at my cover for a while. “I’m really doing this…” He runs his hand over the texture of my cover. He slowly opens my cover and stares at my first page. He lifts the pen a few times but never lets the ink touch my pages. After an eternity, he closes my cover and lifts me onto a shelf above his desk, with several other books. “I’ll start tomorrow.” He flips on his computer and loads up a game. After a while, he leaves the office and the room goes dark. “Good luck, kid,” a sketchbook nearby snickers. “He goes through hobbies like crazy. I have one drawing in here. One!” “He wrote three journal entries in me before he quit,” another notebook on the shelf points out. “Well, maybe I’ll be different,” I huff. Although…deep down I worry - what if they are right? The next day he pulls me off the shelf and puts me in his backpack. It’s dark; I get jostled around. I’m not a fan, but I hope this trip will lead to words on the pages. When the bag opens and the darkness is chased away by the light, I feel creative energy flow into the space. I hear the clinking of cups and the murmurs of idle chatter. “Jackson! You're here early!” Someone greets him from the counter. “Yeah, I got a notebook to write down that story I was telling you about last shift.” He sets me down on a table. “Sick, man! Your usual?” the coworker calls from behind the coffee machine. “That would be great!” Jackson pulls out the same pen from last night and once again stares at my cover. He opens my cover slightly faster than the night before. He stares at my first page again, clicking the pen a few times, but never touches the page. He stares out the window instead. His coworker drops off the coffee, they chat for a bit, and then his coworker returns to work. Jackson once again stares back at the page and looks back to the window. He lets everything distract him - coffee shop regulars, cars outside, everything and anything is more interesting than my pages. His coworker comes by again. “Dude, have you put ink on paper yet?” “No, I just want it to be perfect,” Jackson sighs. “Isn’t that the point of brainstorming? To get everything on paper?” The coworker leans on the table. “Well yeah, but I don’t want to waste any pages!” Jackson shifts in his seat. Suddenly the table tilts and I slide off to the floor. The coffee cup is also gliding. Before anyone can do anything, the table is on its side, there is a loud crash and I am drenched in coffee. “Woah!” The coworker leaps back. “You good, man?” Jackson pushed his chair back. “I think so.” He looks around. “I’ll get the mop!” Jackson carefully picks me up and brushes off the pieces of broken mug. He shakes his head and lets out a long, low breath. “Maybe it’s a sign that I’m not meant to be a writer.” Is he going to give up after two days of trying? Maybe the other books were right. He can’t commit. “Lay it out in the sun, might be worth saving for another project,” his coworker suggests. I am plopped on the window sill. I can’t help but feel defeated. As my pages dry they also become stained. I feel like my very life is being drained from me. The sun sets and Jackson grabs me and tosses me in his bag. He chucks the bag on the ground when he gets home. I wonder if my cover is bent. I don’t know how long he keeps me in his bag. But I get new stains from melting candy and spilt water. Then one day, a bunch of clothes get tossed into the bag and I hear him greet someone I don’t recognize. “Your room is this way, little brother. Cece is so glad you could come to visit!” “Me too! It’s been a minute. Glad my days off worked out.” I think he tosses his bag on the bed. I think he’s forgotten about me. A bit later he pulls his clothes out of the bag and plops it on the floor. The room is quiet; I’m not sure if it’s nighttime or he’s just left the room. I have no sense of time anymore. Suddenly the bag is opened and a small hand reaches in. It removes me from the prison that the bag has become. “Woah! This looks like a pirate book!” A little girl's voice giggles as she flips through the pages. “There isn’t a story in here! I should fix that!” She grips me tightly in her little hands and races out of the room. “Uncle Jac Jac! Can I have this notebook I found in your bag?” She pauses as she runs by the kitchen. “Cece, you shouldn’t go through people's bags! It’s rude,” Cece’s mother reprimands. “It’s fine, Sis. Honestly, I forgot it was even in there. So go ahead, kid.” He smiles at Cece and she takes off running. “I can’t believe you taught her to call me Uncle Jac Jac,” I hear him say as she leaves the room. Cece takes me to her room, plops me on her desk and pulls out all kinds of coloured pencils and a box of regular pencils. And she writes on my pages! Over the weekend she spends hours filling my pages with her pirate story. Her writing isn’t pretty and it’s way too big for my lines, but she has a good idea. She even adds pictures. At the end of the weekend, as Jackson is getting ready to leave, she comes running with me in her hands. “Uncle Jac Jac! Here!” She trips and I go flying in the air. Somehow Jackson catches me, and Cece’s mom catches her. “Woah! Easy there, kid.” Jackson looks down at the label stuck on my cover. “Jac Jac and Cece’s great pirate adventure? What’s this, kiddo?” “I wrote you a pirate story for your pirate book!” She beams between deep breaths. Jackson flips through my pages. “Woah… You did this over the weekend?” She nods. “Yea, it was easy.” She shrugs. “When you’re not worried about perfection you get a lot further, brother,” his sister teases. “Yeah… Maybe.” He kneels down. “Thank you, Cece; this is a great gift. You know what? I think I have time to sit and read it with you before I leave.” The two of them sit on the couch and read Cece’s silly little story. When he heads home, he sets me in his passenger seat, talking to himself the whole way home. He talks about the story he had wanted to write. And all the other hobbies he had left behind. When we reach his home, he walks towards the bookshelf and he slides me into a place between some other well-loved books. After a beat, he pulls me off the shelf again, brings me back to his office, and sets me next to his computer. “Alright no notebook this time, I’m just gonna start jotting my ideas down here.” For the next few months, I watched him create the world he’d been dreaming about. And the day he finished his first draft, I’d never been so proud.

I’ve worked at this Library for well over a decade now and, while I have many stories I could share for its twenty-fifth-anniversary celebration, this one is my favourite. Our story starts shortly after I got my job here at this little library…. The school day has just ended and that means there will be a few kids trickling in for my coworker Betty’s afterschool program. I stay near the front, greeting the kids as they come in. Once the program is well underway, I return to my desk to deal with a new shipment of books. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a stack of books appearing at the checkout counter, growing taller by the second. I don’t see anyone, but I walk to the counter and see a girl, just tall enough to see over the counter, unloading one of those large grocery totes full of books. “Well, hello there, friend!” She pauses for a second to look at me before returning to her bag of books. “Looks like you’ve got quite a collection there.” I pick up the scanner. She still says nothing but slides her library card across the counter. I scan her card. Her name is Alice. I start scanning her books. She watches me silently. Do I keep trying to make conversation? “Oh! I used to read some of these when I was about your age.” I smile down at the familiar mystery book. She raises an eyebrow at me and starts packing her books back up. “Do you want a receipt that says when they are all due back?” She nods quickly, and I print it and hand it to her. She smiles, neatly folds the long slip of paper, and tucks it into the front of the book on the top of the pile. She gives me a slight nod and takes off. I hear the doorbell chime and with that, she’s gone. “How interesting,” I say to no one in particular. “She likes you,” my coworker Betty teases as she walks back from her program with a bucket of supplies to put away. “Ya think?” I lean against the counter. “Oh yeah, she scowled at the last clerk we had.” Betty giggles, opening the supply closet. “Oh! Is she always like that?” I start checking in other books. “Sorta…? When she’s here with her family she’s a bit more chatty. But when she comes in without them she says almost nothing. Not sure why. Her brother plays field hockey across the road. She comes over, grabs her books, reads until he’s done, then they walk home together. Sometimes you’ll see them if we close up early.” Betty closes the closet door and shrugs. “She’s just a quiet kid.” I make a point of being at the front on the days I know Alice will be stopping by. I make sure to treat her no differently than any other kid in the library. She brings me notes about the books she wants and can’t find in our library, so I can place holds on them. Over time when they arrive from other libraries I hear a faint “Thank you.” She comes in on her birthday and, like I do for all the regular kids, I’ve bought her a card and a little bookmark. The look on her face when she opens her card is everything. I think it’s the first time I’ve heard her use her full voice. “Thank you for being so kind to me.” She takes her books and scurries off. As she gets older, she keeps coming to the library, and her stacks of books get smaller. The books, however, get longer. She stays and studies or reads until her mom texts her to head home. Her brother has a job now, so no more field hockey for him. Though I don’t think Alice minds much. She waves when she comes in and says goodbye when she leaves. Sometimes she brings me a cookie, which always makes my day better. If it’s slow, I go and sit with her and help her with schoolwork, or I stop by on my rounds and check in on her. As summer approaches, we are given a grant for a summer student to work part-time. The grant is for a high school student. Alice doesn’t have a part-time job yet and she is the right age. One afternoon, while she sits in her spot reading, I slide the application to her. She looks at it and quickly slides it back to me. “Just think about it, okay? It’s helping me stack shelves. You know how crazy the summers get around here. Betty can’t help me as much, so this helps us both get our work done.” I leave the application with her and go back to my desk. When I glance up sometime later, she’s filling it out. It shows up on my desk a few days later. We give her the job. For the next three summers, she works for us. Watching her grow and come out of her shell is such a gift. The first time I hear her laugh out loud, I stop dead in my tracks; it is so contagious. Her grad year is quickly coming to an end. One day, she rushes in holding a letter. “I did it! I’m going to college!” she yells. “Oh, sorry! No yelling, I know.” “I don’t care! I'm so proud of you right now!” I offer her a hug, and she accepts. “You've done so well,” I whisper. “Thanks,” she whispers as she lets go. “I gotta run, but I’ll be back to study tomorrow!” I watch her leave with a bittersweet feeling in my heart. A few weeks later as Alice leaves the library, she slips a card across the counter and leaves before I can open it. I open it once I'm in my car. “Thank you for always giving me a safe space and letting me grow at my own pace. Alice.” Inside is a ticket for her grad. She wants me there. And in all my years of working here, I’ve never felt so valued.

Project Creative Vs Isolation - Notes on Participant 5. Attached you will find a series of journal entries highlighting her unique experience during her time in our experiment. She was in Group A, and this group had limited social interaction, to see if it helped or harmed the creative process. Day 123 The low growl has become almost comforting. Almost. It’s been about 4 months since I signed up for this thing. Who knew being given creative freedom to create anything would be so exhausting? I’ve been working on a novel. I’d been working on it before I started this experiment and, well… It’s not going great. And I think my self-doubt has manifested into a dragon. Yes, a real dragon. I know it sounds crazy… And now I’m arguing with myself in a journal. Maybe this isolation is making me mad… Day 170 Writing is going poorly today. But I remembered the dudes in charge of this crazy thing gave us questions to answer in these journals. I forgot about them, and the dragon in my apartment is rather cumbersome to deal with today. So! Let’s write something easy. Like…. Why did I agree to this? Simple: I claim the reason I can’t finish my novel is because I don’t have time. So when I lost my job and this advertisement showed up on my socials I figured why not take the year to work on my novel? And the free place to live definitely sweetened the deal. And for whatever reason they said yes to me. Thanks dudes. So we will see if the distractions are really the reason I can finish the first draft. He’s watching me… Oh yes, I’ve decided the dragon is a boy and I’ve named him George. I know they say you shouldn’t name strays, otherwise you’ll get attached. But hey, I’m already pretty attached to my self-doubt or imposter syndrome or whatever else you want to call it. Might as well name the silly thing. And you know what? I think he shrunk a bit. I think I’m going to take the rest of the day off. Maybe tomorrow will be easier. Day 215 I officially finished draft one of my novel!!!! I can’t believe it! This is amazing! I feel like I could do anything! Oh, you remember George? Yeah well, no bigger than a puppy today! Take that, Self-Doubt! I can do this! Right? It’s good, right? It’s a good first step. What happens now? I… I don’t know. Step 1: Request a cake to celebrate in some form. Step 2: Find out what on earth I do next. Day 250 I picked up my manuscript for the first time in just over a month. Taking a break and trying my hand at painting. It was nice, and funnily enough George the dragon almost disappeared. I guess it was just fun, no doubt to be had. But I’m also not as passionate about my fine art skills as I am about my storytelling skills. It’s an interesting contrast. Anyway, back to the novel… It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. But George grew in size today. He looked so smug about it too. How annoying. However (and don’t tell him this) he’s a little motivating. Day 289 Just over two months left. Honestly, I’ve got mixed feelings about it. In one way, I’m ready to see my family and friends. Texting and the occasional phone call and video chat aren’t the same as being in the same room. I feel like I mention that it’s not like we haven’t seen anyone in the last nine months. I went for walks and ordered food and things like that. Oh, and they brought our families a few times (maybe some of the others saw friends too, but I wouldn’t know). For the record, Scientist Dudes, I did my best work for a few days after they came to visit. Back to the notes! I will miss the time to just sit down and focus on my creative passion like this. I’m also worried George will leave me… I know I complained about him before but honestly? He’s grown on me. He’s a great gauge of how loud my self-doubt is. Maybe he’ll follow me. I’m only a third of the way through my edits and rewrites but I think I still like the heart of my story. So I’m gonna keep working on it. Day 336 The end draws near. It’s so close! I’ve made good progress on the story, I’m about halfway through I think. Though I’ve moved so much content around that I honestly don’t know anymore. But I feel accomplished. Oh, and George? I know you’ve gotten attached too. He’s been smaller these days. Some days he grows but I’ve gotten quite good at combating the negative thoughts. So has the time been worth it? Let’s see… Creatively? Sure. Could have I gotten this done without this? I would have taken twice as long, but yeah. Personal growth-wise? Oh yeah. I learned a lot about myself and faced some big problems and I feel ready to go back out there. Day 365 It’s over… Tomorrow I go back to my parent’s house for a few weeks. Then, I was able to get a lease in my old apartment building. I found a new job that starts in a week or two. They gave us a guidebook to help us “reacclimate.” I’m not too worried. I’m packed up and George is curled up like a cat on my suitcase. So I guess he’s coming with me. Good luck, Science Dudes. Enjoy the road through my journal. Hope it helps with whatever the goal was. Peace out!