The Tale of Almost Alvin

Alvin held high high expectations. Expectations for every he or she that he knew, including the he that was he, Alvin.

High expectations were not an easy thing to hold, not a joyful thing to hold. No. Because it was sad yet truthful to say that not one single he or she ever quite lived up to Alvin’s high expectations, including the he that was he, Alvin. Especially that he, yes that he most of all.

The Tale of the Green Grass

It was a green lawn, a very green lawn, a green green lawn. And big. Yes, it was the first green lawn to grow green on the very first day of spring. A broad expanse of grass that covered a broad expanse of rich topsoil in an awakening springtime world...

The Tale of the Teller Twins

Everyone in town called them “the twins.” Tripp and Terry Teller, identical in all ways – except one. As you will see. The Teller twins were tree trimmers and had a nice little business going too. Chopping at trunks, grinding down roots, thinning out limbs. The twins had grown up around this town and this town had grown up around the twins. Yes, this town was no small place anymore and the Teller boys had no small business either...

The Tale of Me-First Mary
 

Mary was an odd name for this particular Mary. For this particular Mary often pursed her unmerry lips in disgust at some other someone. Someone, anyone who got in her way during any particular day. Mary was as unmerry as any someone could be.

Knowing that she lived in a me-first world, Mary often used her lips to speak aloud the two words always mostly on her mind. “Me.” And “my.”

The Tale of the Small Hole

Life is tough if you’re nothing but a small hole. For big holes, sure, things aren’t quite so bad, sure, sure. At least bigger is better, as everyone knows. But for each small hole poked into the fabric of this world somewhere, there is almost nothing to do but to live in hollow boredom.

The Tale of no-time nora

No, no, no, no! No was No-Time Nora’s favorite word. Often she would say, while hurrying past him or her in some frantic flurry, “No! Sorry! No time!” No time for coffee with a colleague. Sorry! No time for sewing with her sister. Sorry! No time for a film with a friend. Sorry! No, nor time to stop and listen, nor time to stop and chat. Nora was far too busy for frivolous stuff, for time-wasting things like that.

The Tale of Generous Jen

Upon some time lived Jennifer once. Writing a children’s book, she was, all in lovely scented verse. Writing only once, perhaps twice, a month. Perhaps. When she could find some time.

This was how Jennifer’s scented children’s book began:

“Music comes alive at night, you know.

The Tale of Techie Tom

Thomas was a technical type. Totally. His colleagues in IT called him TT. To them, he was “Techie Tom.” But he felt sure all the Ts in his nickname were merely a teasing for him, initials given not with affection but with disdain. His colleagues didn’t really like him, TT would think each day. No one wanted him around. Except for his whiz-bang wizardry on the Internet, he was a man of little interest and lesser use to anybody. Or so TT thought.