Leprechaun story

“Freeze!” cried the young man, “Give me your pots of gold!”
“But sir, that’s all we have” said the leprechaun who was clad in green and red. He knew if the man was to press him at this party he’d have to give up his pots and in this recession it meant certain death as his gold was magical and sustaining his life force.
“Give me it, or I’ll slow tear your stomach out and make you watch me turn it into a shoe, you fairy!” yelled the man
“Hi, I’m Jolly, son of the spirit Melkor, you are?” the leprechaun asked trying to change the subject.
“How dare you mention the name of that horrible creature!” he cried sending a table flying at him as he ducked. “Trickster, give me your gold!”
“But I’m not a trickster-”
“AGAINST THE POINT!” he screamed. He calmed down for a second and said “ok, where is it?”
“Tell me your name first”
“Freangopel son of Frenomer”
“Very well Freangopel son of Frenomer, follow me” said Jolly son of Melkor as they walked out of the wooden cabin the leprechaun had been residing in and walked into the dark creepy woods. It was nearing midnight. At midnight Jolly stopped walking and walked into some shrubs.
“Jolly! Help! I am lost!” cried Freangopel. And when no answer came he cried out “Some one, any one, any thing help me! I am sorry for my greed and have been punished justly! Please, something guides me!” he cried out in one final attempt to escape as he saw a bright light just outside of a swamp. He then walked towards the light and into the marsh never to be seen or heard from again. And over the years several legends have emerged, some say it never happened. Some say the light was a will o wisp and he was lost forever. Some say it was a demon, possibly a servant of Melkor, out to kill him. Some say it was an angel who took him up. And still others say that he is still in those woods, wondering looking for a way out. For a way to redeem himself as disembodied spirit continually searching for his way out.

The Curse

It is a store presentable enough on the outside but on the inside it is completely empty. That is because it is a store which cannot be owned. The only thing bought and sold in it is the store itself.



“Where’s the items” said the man as he walked in.



“There’s none, but if you give me five bucks the stores yours.” The man at the counter said, and so was the way the stores curse passed hands, money. At the time he had thought it was the best bargain he had ever made, but he didn't know what waited for him in the attic.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Honey, come on, let's bring the supplies in" he said as they walked to there newly fixed store. They had transferred it into a tool store and were bringing in power tools as it fell to the ground at the door and they tried really hard but it was like a barrier, they couldn't get it in.


"What's happening?" asked his wife Matilda. She was tall and beautiful with flowing red hair.


"I don't know" he said as he saw a dark silhouette move across the a window on the top floor slowly. "Honey, I'll be right back" he said as he walked into the store while she wore her confused face and began to follow. He slowly walked up the stairs to the top floor and as he opened the door to the attic a bright light shown in his face before it disappeared but he wonder still remained on his face.


"Hello?" he asked as his wife walked in to the room.


"What is it" asked Matilda


"There was a light just a moment ago" he said the wonder on his face still remaining


"Well its not here now..."


"BUT IT WAS!" He yelled anger now on his face


"Jeez, chill. I'll wait down stairs" she said as she left and closed the door.


But the door had not been closed long before he heard "Jeez, you've been very bad at this. And who names ther kid Jeez any way?"


"Who is that?" he asked


"Your pet, but don't you know the rules?"


"What rules? Who are you?" he said panicked unsure if he was crazy or if it was the room speaking to him.


"I told you, I'm the pet. The rules are that the store must be sold, nothing else."


"Who is this?"


"Sssshh" said the voice as he blacked out.


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Jeez awoke in the morning on a cold hard wooden fence. At first he was startled by this and tried his best to get up. He saw that his sneacker and socks were gone and a quick feel through showed that his phone, iPod and house keys to were gone. This quickly awoke him with a start as he thought of his beautiful Matilda. He looked at the street signs, he was a mile from his house. It took him several minutes but he got home and found his door locked. He went around the back and broke the window as he fell through into his home. He hurried upstairs to there room and opened the door. And there she layed facedown on the bed.


"Matilda?" he asked as he approcahed and poked her un moving body. He then turned her over and broke down crying as he saw the blood stained night gown and bed sheet. He collasped to his knees as he the truth sank in. He would never be able to hold his dear Matildat, to whisper "I love you" after a long romantic evening again. His dear Matilda was dead. And there he kneeled crying over her bloody corpse for several hours before he was finally able to gain composure enough to call the cops. When they came an ambulance took the body away. They asked him a few questions and he explained that he had been knocked out and his phone, ipod, keys and shoes stolen. That he loved his wife and would never do it. And then they left and he tried to get some sleep but the one time he was able to get a minute's sleep he heard her voice, yelling for help from the abyss she was probably now wallowing in. It was simply to haunting so he turned on the stove to make himself some tea to calm himself down but before he got the water on the on stove he broke down crying again. And there he cried untill he fell asleep, tears still in his eyes.

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He awoke at twelve the next day to the smell of smoke. He awoke in a shock as he saw that a blaze had just surrounded him.

"HELP!!!!!" he screamed desperately but he knew that his abilities as a track star couldn't help him out of this one. He had just given up hope as a blast of water from a hose burst through an open window and as it met with the water steam rose up and the fire was extenguished.

"HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He yelled again this time louder with new hope.

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Out side the fireman heard his screams of desperations and burst into the building. as they sprayed down the fire working towards the dining room. Slowly but surely they were confident that they were going to make it in time. Then they saw his face. There was a look of horror and anguish on it.

"Hold on, we're coming" yelled one of the fireman, Chuck, as they kept on approaching, fighting the blaze as they went. They then managed to reach him and carried him out of his incedibly shaken as the cieling collasped where he had just been standing. In interviewing Jeez they learned about his wife and how the fire started. By then end of the hour the fire was gone but most of the house leveled. He resigned to walking to his store once the guys from insurance left and the firefighters left and the well wishers walked back home. The walk seemed far longer then usual for him. He had no idea what was left in his life but only that everything he had was gone. All he knew was that there was one place to go, the store and its strange light. When he reached the store he went up to the top floor and sat down and cried once more.

"What is wrong?" came a mysterious, comforting voice from no where.

"Ma-Matilda?" He asked recognizing the voice of his wife.

"Yes, where am I?" His beautiful wife asked

"Don't worry, every thing's ok. Is any one else there?" He said

"Yes, there is this strange baby here" the voice said when he realized the worse truth of all, she had been pregnant when she died.

"Don't worry, it's ok" He said, trying to be strong.

"Jeez, am I, am I dead?" asked Matilda

"Yes" he said beginning to cry.

"Don't cry" She said, "It'll only take a step" and then he saw what she was talking about, an open window. His mind raced with the possibilities. He slowly walked over to the window. "Come on, just one step" said the voice as he looked down seeing that the drop may kill him. He began to take a step, then turned around.

"Animus, ostendo tui formo" said Jeez, his best attempt to say "Spirit, show yourself" in Latin, his arm out stretched.
"Over here" came Matilda's voice from the corner of the room. He quickly turned to face her and his child but standing there was a man in a suit.
"Who are you?" asked Jeez
"The resident spirit" said the spirit, his voice now suave and smooth.
"And your name is..."
"Charles, Charles Smith. I was the original owner of this great establishment"
"But I can't sell anything in it"
"You can sell the store, hell you bought it for five bucks!"
"How did you know that?"
"I am the store. It is cursed so I must haunt it untill it gets sold over and over again."
"And what does this haunting include?" asked Jeez
"Just some really bad luck, killed the last guy's mother. That was fun" said charles
Jeez then flew at him trying desperately to punch his face as his fist repeatedly went through. "You bastard! How dare you do that crap to me! What did I do to you! Hell what did we do to YOU!" Jeez yelled out in anger.
"The store is only sold through a specific family line, the line that exterminated mine."
"Was she really-"
"Pregnant? Yes. There both dead and I'm loving this. The anguish of the living is great fuel for me" said charles as Jeez slowly pulled a metal pipe towards him and swung it at Charles' head and he screamed as a mighty flame consumed him and he dissapeared.
"Jump" came the sweetly seductive voice from within his head. He knew that there was one thing left to do. He walked towards the window as his dead wife's voice became louder and pulled out a match and lit it. Then he dropped and let it spread.
"No don't! Stop it! Stop it!" Came a demonically warped voice and of course he didn't stop it. And within a matter of seconds the passage ways out were blocked by flames and he calmly walked towards it knowing that he may never live again...

store description

It is a shining white store three stories high, decked out in the best armor that money can buy. On top of a metallic shield read a sign: Legends! We sell armor, stores, pies, people and ancient dreams! Ten cents the whole lot! One could say legends is like a black market to the past where one could buy the past armor and ideas. Do you want to play Bethoven? Just drink a can of Bethoven soda! Maybe be awesome as Sparticus! Drink his delicious soft drink. Want love? We have an ancient soft drink formula for that to! Running out of ideas? Have a lost dreams soda and become enlightened in what some great genius thought but was never recognized because he was poor, and take credit for it! We have every aisle filled with these affordable, helpful soft drinks, all three stories of it! Wealth awaits you for ten cents, so hurry up because every can is unique!

“Can I have some love” asked the ugly three hundred pound girl.
“Sure, it is only ten cents. And while you’re at it, special sale on inspirational quotes. Nine cents only today!”
“Sure!” see said as she walked out. Sucker. She then ran back in ten minutes later, “You need to help me, there’s a horde of creepers who are following me!” she yelled.
“Sorry no refunds, you agreed to the contract when you walked in and read the sign on the front door” he said, glad he had taken the no love drink that morning as she walked away discouraged, but he bought twenty cents of armor to protect herself. It was twenty cents because it is hard to find them in that size.


It is a store presentable enough on the outside but on the inside it is completely empty. That is because it is a store which cannot be owned. The only thing bought and sold in it is the store itself.

“Where’s the items” said the man as he walked in.
“There’s none, but if you give me five bucks the stores you.” The man at the counter said, and so was the way the stores curse passed hands, money.

Silly Poet(poem)

Silly poet,
Did you really think the stars stopped burning,
When you closed your eyes to sleep?

When they are amongst us so high,
My silly friend, when was the last time
We ventured beyond the light,
So bright.

I remember leaving our stars,
For the world so far.
The darkness' eternal spotlight
Of the burning of five hundred stars.

Silly poet,
Where did you think that burning light
Came from?

Silly poet,
Let me venture with you together,
Into the stars so bright,
Lighting our eternal night.

Silly poet,
My friend untill the end,
You may be a silly one,
But you sure are a catch,
My silly friend.

The Game

Charles had just spayed the dragon of Vildaron, fought past his way to the magical lands of the west, beaten the evil lord Gath and had just saved the princess, her name was Diane, a beautiful woman in her early twenties who rebelled by dying her hair purple. They had just spent a week long journey and just gotten back to the castle when she nervously invited him inside for some tea. He accepted delightfully and sat down at the pre prepared table, as if he was expected… it had never happened before but after saving 12 princesses, with a record of 100% and no casualties or fake saves, spaying 22 dragons, a humane way to mild them down and keeping the population at a minimum and killing 2 dark overlords, he surely had a reputation by now. That is what he thought as he sat down for his last cup of tea at proper castle tea time.
It went down like this:
“Would you like some tea?” she had asked
“I would. Thank you.” He said in reply
“Careful. It’s hot.”
“I usually prefer iced tea.” He said because of his KNOWN deathly allergy to hot tea
“Mmm. I don’t have any.” She said indifferently taking a sip of hers
“Maybe I can put ice in this tea.”
“But that’s what I’m saying—I don’t have any cubes.” She said, her hand on his leg as he finally realized what she was.
“Sorry.” He said drawing out his sword as her head flew off as both head and body retook there original shape of Dark Lord Gath’s loyal lieutenant, Lieutenant Moriaster. He finally understood what had happened; he had only saved 11 princesses and as he barged pass a door he had saw that a “do not disturb” sign was put up as he wondered what the attendants were thinking, he then assembled a strike team to see if it was true, was she really dead. That is what they found when they returned to the cave. A set of dead bones, the princesses, Gath’s was being eaten by vultures, no longer beautiful as he had been in life. Upon seeing this, the whole party broke down and cried, evil had just broken the rules and nothing would be the same as suddenly he felt a tight pain in his chest and he dropped, and one of the leaders turned into the Dark Lord Gath, having deceived Charles and then slipped hot tea into his mouth as he slept nodded to his man, leaving Charles, the princess and the imposter for the vultures as the still beautiful and dashing Lord Gath set his sights on the world, knowing he was going to make a game with one rule, don't lose and if you do lose, just don't lose.

Response to Lorrie Moore

In "How to Become a Writer" by Lorrie Moore she shows that when one writes you strike out many times. In order to write you have to not truly know what it is that you are writing. Writing is meant to be subjective, at least in poetry. In a short story there's supposed to be a line that the story follows, its called a plot. But there is to be no clear cut meaning to what you are writing. I'll be honest, I forget what 90% of my poetry is about but I think I do a decent job making it something that can be interpreted. I've had it interpreted to mean that I was deep or had serious issues, all in the same poem. I think what she was saying was just that. Writing is an obscure art with NO clear lines. I think she is saying that for us to succeed at learning that art we must fail and fail at it. I remember all through out middle school I was told I had the tools to be a good writer but just wasn't using them properly. I remember in ninth grade when I found what I percieve as a voice in my poetry, half inspired by Lynyrd Skynyrd (For those who now it, it is the poem I call "The Breeze"). I think what was being said is that others may hate your writing but then you will eventually find your voice either by accident, coincidence or inspiration. I think the second thing was that you won't make much money untill after you die. So often are great voices unheard of untill after they die, like Emily Dickinson's. There are many great writers who don't get the attention they desrve and the writing eventually takes over your life. But this is because its fun, fun to see inspiration in every speck of dust, every grain of wood, every eye (another refrence to a poem of mine).

parrot story continuation!

And so they picked me up and brought me into there large minivan, which I had bought for her with my money three years ago. She sat in the passenger seat with me as she continually stroked me and said "pretty bird". So I tried to put my mind around the words flowing from the radio. It was hard to get it down with this beautiful women stroking my feathers in a way that reminded me of life. And yet I was busy focusing my anger at this new guy. One bite for stealing my wife, one bite because I never bit that annoying clerk and one for exposing me to this horrible music. Luckily it was a short ride and when we got there they put on the news and put me close enough to hear it. I started to plot my revenge.





It all happened roughly two weeks later when she made him feed me, "Hi stupid birdy, I'm going to turn you into dinner, so eat up" he said.


"Don't mess with me" I said, a phrase that I learned from tv.


"Oh how cute" said that horrible man


"My name is talky tina, and you'd better be nice to me" I said, a phrase from Twilight Zone


"You talking to me" he asked


"Yes" I said


"Well I never knew parrots were capable of a coherent conversation" he said as a door upstairs closed and she came down. "Honey, you'll never believe it, he's intelligent!"


"Well of course he is, he's my pretty birdy!" she said as she gently stroked my feathers in the wonderful way that she does. "Does Polly want a cracker?" she asked


"Yes please" I said, I knew she knew that I would know this because she spent the time to teach it to me.


"See he's smart" she said as she gave me the cracker.


"But not like that, he was actually having a conversation" he said


"But I never taught him how to have a conversation, I'm only up to chapter 5, 'asking politely', so see, its impossible." she said


"I swear, it happened!" he said "Watch!, Who's a stupid birdy, who's a stupid-" he said taunting and goading me.


"How dare you, he's a smart birdy!" she said as she marched away


"Well I'm going to get you" he said as he put his finger towards me


"For the store clerk" I said as he walked away to lick his wound.





The next day I was told how bad it was that I bit him, "Please don't do that" she said, but it didn't matter to me, he would be gone by tonight. And so it was that the night came and I undid some loose bolts in the lock and as he walked down stairs for his bathroom break in the middle of the night I pushed the cage open and flew atop of the fan. This would be my vantage point in driving him away. He walked out of the bathroom and saw my cage empty, he called my bird name as I swooped from the fan and bit him twice more taking off pieces of his finger and spitting them away.


"For my wife and that horrible music" I said


"You-your wife?" he said nervously


"Yes you wife stealer, now leave" I said blowing myself up to twice my size, he was clearly freaked out as I then swooped at him once more and he fled as I went back to my cage and went to sleep, I think burglars will be a suitable answer to why her new husband has disappeared. She taught me to say kidnappers that day so I shall continually repeat it. Hopefully he'll be so traumatized that I attacked him that they'll never be able to get an answer from him. But I think he might play along any way. So basically, I'm awesome and crazy wife stealer is not. Enough said.