When it's time for a baby bird to venture out into the wide world, most know it and take off to explore the skies. Those that don't are eventually pushed out of the nest by the mother, forced to embrace life whether they like it or not. It turns out that the birds that fly on their own often end up much better off than the ones that wait until they're kicked out. This doesn't just apply to birds, but to people too. I mean, I'm a great example myself. I waited to leave home, and look where I am now.

This family was not in good condition at all. The kids were constantly fighting, probably in an attempt to drown out their parents arguments. Money was tight - they lived from paycheck to paycheck, and that was barely enough to cover their needs. The rising price of gas drained the little money they had saved, and things were beginning to look desperate. The parents were thinking about giving up their children, the children were confused and growing increasingly hungry as money ran short. Don't worry, though - everything turned out alright in the end.

New sights, new thoughts.
For today, the river runneth dry.

The master pianist bowed to the audience, and sat at the piano. The concert hall was large and quietly expensive, the audience was nicely dressed - this was no student concert. The first piece began softly, the pianist lovingly caressed each key as he made his music. As the piece went on, the tempo didn't change, but the music began to swell, to fill out the simple melody that began. The tempo slowly shifted and the sound filled the hall, keeping everyone's attention tightly focused on the swaying musician. Just as the music reached its peak, he jumped out of the crowd and tackled the musician, cutting out his still-beating heart with an obsidian knife and eating it as quickly as he could, stealing away the power of music. He proceeded to sit and the piano and play, better than ever before, so well that the audience forgot to react to the grisly murder.

Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for your art.

They emptied the toybox today. It had long been sitting there in the corner, gathering dust with the years. Emptying the large, wooden chest was a daunting task, but they knew it had to be done eventually, and today was the day. Quiet exclamations over long forgotten toys could be heard as they worked. Whispered reminisces filled their time together. The small talk became more strained as tmime passed, however. The pounding on the door got louder and the door began to shake. They emptied the toybox as fast as they could, but there was nothing there they could use. And then it was too late.

"Merry Christmas!" he said.

When it went, no one was quite sure what to do. It seemed like it was something no one could live without, it was just so versatile and ubiquitous. The members of the family wandered the house, lost, for quite some time - they couldn't even think of what to do without it, their activities felt hampered, even the ones that didn't strictly involve it. And the ones that were centered upon it left a gap in their thoughts. Eventually they got over the whole business and did something else.

There was once a young man who was very busy travelling and forgot to write a little story for his blog. Fortunately, he remembered to write one the next day. He thought it was pretty spectacular, but others were unimpressed.

When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we see
No I won't be afraid
No I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me

When the air we breathe
is filled with disease
And I am the carrier of the pain
No I won't be afraid
No, I won't be afraid
Will you please come stand here, by me?

The day the war began was a bloody one. There was no preliminary maneuvering, each side simple lined up and charged. This was Red against Black, the racial hatred had existed for millenia an was now bursting forth once again. As a whole, the Blacks were somewhat larger but there were far more Reds, and thus the battle was even. They fought back and forth, their need to inflict damage so strong that they rarely helped their wounded, instead leaving them to eventually help themselves or fall to the enemy. The battles pushed back and forth, sometimes even reaching into the cities themselves. The war raged for days, violence upon violence, atrocity upon atrocity, and then it was done, there were too few warriors to do battle.

Few noticed this epic struggle, as ants aren't the hot item they could be.

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade. That's what his mom always told him, and to a great extent he agreed. He was usually able to turn any situation into a bright one, sometime even in a literal sense. When his car was in a wreck, he cannibalized it for parts and turned it into art. When his best friend moved out of the country, well, he didn't take it quite so well, but he did make new friends. When his computer got a virus, he saw the reformatting as a time to clean out all the stuff he didn't need. But now, what was he supposed to do with this?

There was a man who liked to dance. Sometimes he also liked to sing, even while dancing! His songs were songs of joy in life, of savoring every moment of every day - happy or sad. His songs didn't always sound joyous, but neither does life. Regardless of whether his songs and dance were hopping and jivey, or slow and melodic, he always found happiness in them, and the people around him always found some small amount of satisfaction in them. Truly, this man was a singing, dancing fiend.

In days long past, there were many myths and fables. They told stories of heroes, the gods, spirits of the forest, and many other things. They often explained something or had a moral, a lesson to be passed on from generation to generation. One such story was the story of the fish and the fruit bat.

A long time ago, when the animals were as much people as people were, and the people were as much animals as animals, there was a fish. This fish, or Fish, I should say, was very proud of his gleaming scales, but sometimes the fact of his underwater existence irked him. He longed to see the trees and the flowers, the sky and the clouds. He wished he could taste the berries of the surface, and not just the bugs and things he usually ate.

Fruitbat, another creature of the area, did give a whit about his appearance, as he didn't have the best eyesight. However, he loved flying, he would swoop and soar, dive and climb all night long. He loved his freedom, but sometimes he was troubled that he could not swim, and that he couldn't experience freedom in the water.

One night, Fish called up to Fruitbat and asked him, "Fruitbat! Fruitbat! Please, tell me what it's like up there!"

Fruitbat replied, "Why not come and see yourself? The air is fine!"

"I can't, I'm limited to the water."

"I have something in common with you, friend - I'm limited to the land and air. But I have an idea! I know you can't live on the land, but I can bring you some berries so you can at least taste something from above."

"And I can teach you to swim! You can't breathe in the water, but I've seen Dog swimming in the river."

And so they carried out their plan. First, Fruitbat gave Fish some berries, which made Fish very sick. Then Fish tried to teach Fruitbat to swim, but Fruitbat just couldn't learn and nearly drowned several times. They both eventually gave up on the other worlds and separated paths.

And that's why fruitbats don't swim and fish don't venture onto the land.

Except the mudskipper.

There once was a young man who liked to write stories. However, he had a big project due, and he liked passing his classes better.

Sometimes, when you're read a good book or see a good movie, you just getting that feeling where you need to tell someone about it, do you know what I'm talking about? That feeling in your chest, like it's about to burst unless you share what you just experienced? It's almost unbearable, especially when there's no one to tell, or you'd feel stupid just telling some random friend who has no connection to what you're thinking of. I have that feeling right now, and I can barely stand it.

"You know, I really like you - we should do something some time."

"I think I'd like that."

"No, wait! You don't know what you're getting into!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Actually, I don't know. There's no real reason for you to not get together."

"Alright then, and we haven't "gotten together" - this'll be a first date."

Regardless, they did settle into a permanent relationship and lived a relatively happy life.

He knew that this time would one day come. He'd been looking forward to it and dreading it all his life. Some nights, he'd lie awake at night wondering when it would happen, wondering what it would be like. He even worried sometimes if his thinking about it would make it take longer to come, like Christmas, or that thinking about it drew him away from other things he could be doing. He worried that his obsession was destroying his life, even when he felt he was doing pretty well. All these hopes, fears, and worries vanished life snow in a furnace when the time finally came. It was finally going to happen.

What would be in a story about paleontologists GONE WRONG? he thought. Would they animate dinosaur skeletons and send them on a rampage? Would they destroy precious irreplacable bones? Would they make fake casts and construct their own new species of dinosaur, fooling the people forever? Would they tell everyone dinosaurs were really a myth all along and that the Intelligent Design folks were right all along? They could do anything and get away with it - they're scientists! Wow, my life is boring.

He promised them he'd do his part. He was there every time they met to plan it. He even contributed when he had ideas. He understood that their plan might not be entirely kosher, but he was willing to follow through regardless. The incentive was just too strong. This'll be the last thing, he thought, after tonight it'll be the straight and narrow for me.

Eventually the night came. They prepared and set about their task. They worked with careful deliberation, after preparing for so long, they didn't want to mess it up. Finally, it was time for him to do his part. Everything came down to him, the power was in his hands to bring everything together or to let it all come tumbling down around their ears.

He knew what he had to do.

When he saw the cat, he knew it was time for it to end. He knew he'd been very patient - he'd put up with a lot of stuff other people wouldn't. Sometimes people told him, "Leave her, I wouldn't put up with that." But he persevered for love. His girlfriend travelled in different circles from most, but she only asked for him to not interfere. He happily obliged, looking past those things that might worry some. He thought love would bring him through it all. But today, he walked into their shared apartment and noticed the cat. When he saw the cat, he knew it was time for it to end.

There once was a boy who was often very tired. Because of this, he often took naps.