early scribblings

I started writing fiction when I was a kid. To be honest, I couldn’t really give you an age, but my best guess is 7. No lie.

I was going to tell you about one of my first stories but why do that when I can let you read it? Well, mostly because it’s embarrassing but what the heck. I wrote this one when I was about 9. See if you can recognize the subtle influence of the fables I read as a child; my adult self comments are in teal:

Once upon a time, there lived in the forest a small elf. He had escaped from Santa’s workshop. (Because apparently Santa enslaved the elves.) He got into a lot of mischief. His name was Otto. (more…)

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He was standing hundreds of miles away when he got the news: his mother lay dying. He booked the next flight out, hoping, praying that he’d get there in time. He had one chance to get to her, one chance to say goodbye. She was fading quickly.

But things started going wrong. A delay, long enough to affect his next flight, the last flight of the day. A day could be too long. His mother didn’t have a day.

His heart broken, tears began streaming down his face in the middle of the airplane. He may not get the chance to say goodbye. (more…)

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©2024 halee matthews

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