My favorite book in elementary school was Walt Morey's Kavik the Wolf Dog. It revolves around a wolfdog named Kavik who has just won a sled race in Alaska. His success as a lead dog makes Kavik worth thousands of dollars, and he is purchased by Mr. Hunter, a wealthy businessman. Kavik is put on a plane to Colorado but becomes stranded mid-route when the plane crashes. Andy rescues the wolfdog from the wilderness of Alaska, torn up from the fall and trapped inside his cage. Kavik never forgets Andy, even when Mr. Hunter finds out that he survived and claims him from Andy's home. What makes the story inspiring is that Kavik traveled on a boat and through the wilderness from Colorado just to get back to Andy. He showed both the loyalty of a dog and the survivability of a wolf. It was the combination of husky and wolf that brought Kavik home to Andy, not either one on its own. Even though the wolf inside him was considered vicious, it kept him alive. I always cried each time I r
"You don't have to be afraid," she said, handing me the slip of paper. "He wrote you this note. I know he likes you, too." I was giddy, but far too nervous; I'd never been in a relationship. My hands shook. "Here's his number," she added. "Just call him." Call him. I didn't have a cell phone. I couldn't hold a conversation. A day passed, and I didn't call. Another day and I avoided her in school. My cheeks reddened when he walked by. I knew he liked me, but I also couldn't believe it. I was never very brave.
The low murmur of voices pulled me from sleep. Blinking, I fought to keep my eyes open as the world swirled to life around me. I was sprawled out on a black floor mattress in a small, dark room. A couple of candles were lit on a dresser under a window, through which I could see the night sky. Groaning, I raised a hand to my forehead. Ugh, what a headache. Did I fall down somewhere? Where was I? Forcing myself to sit up, I glanced down at my body. Yeah, those were the same jeans and t-shirt from yesterday. Something must have happened, but I just couldn’t sort anything out. Maybe once my head stopped pounding.
The bedroom door slid open, and I turned my head despite the pain that followed. The silhouette of a tall, twig-like person stood in the doorway. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze. “Who…?” I croaked, before breaking into a cough. When was the last time I had something to drink? It felt like days.
“Whoa, wait, don’t move,” a light
It was so dark that I couldn’t see an inch in front of my face. So cold that I curled into myself until my back ached, pulling my knees to my chest. Was this a dream? No, a nightmare … I didn’t have dreams anymore. I slept and I slept, but I was so tired …
“Are you alright?” a voice called out from the shadows. I ignored it.
“Hey, are you awake?” it asked again. It sounded so kind, so warm … yet instinctively, I pushed it away. I did not want to be awake. I wanted to sleep, so I wouldn’t be tired. I wanted to sleep, so I could forget everything else.
The voice came and went, like a distant howl. In and out, close and far, all at the same time. I didn’t trust it, couldn’t trust something so formless.
It snuck up on me in the dark, footsteps muffled by my sobs. How often had I come back to this place? Was there ever anywhere else? Was I ever someone else?
I could feel it here with me, in this place. It was a mixture
Small Like My Kittens
The loud whooshing of large, leathery wings stirred the calico from her slumber atop the fence post. The ground shuddered under the weight of something far larger than a cat, the vibration reverberating through the old wooden post. The calico blinked away sleep, her pale green eyes taking in the sight before her - a slinky black dragon bowed low to the ground. She studied it for a long moment before sighing.
“How did you find me?” the calico asked.
The snake-like dragon did not move. His wings were curled up against his back, his hide darker than midnight and shiny. It dazzled the cat sometimes, but the dragon was not a plaything - it was a thing she had already said farewell to. When the dragon made no further show of movement, the calico sighed again.
“Unflatten yourself,” she commanded. “It’s embarrassing, having a creature so large bow to a cat no bigger than its snout.”
“I apologize, but I am indebted to you,” the dragon replie
Somehow I Found It
As far as I was concerned, I was always a level lower than everyone else. I knew the members of the archery club, interacted with them, enjoyed their company, but I never had conversations with them. They were college students, just like I was, but we were not the same. They could socialize with an offhandedness that I could never aspire to, a universal likeness that was so different from me. When it came down to it, I was certain that I was less valuable, and didn’t mind leaving when no one else showed up for club that Saturday.
And I was going to leave, bow case in one hand and plastic tube in the other (it held my arrows), when Ryan showed up. Ryan was the unanimously elected president of the archery club, and for good reason; he made his own longbows and atl atls, and was incredibly accurate with both of them. When he came to the door and saw only me standing there, I was sure practice was canceled. I could go back to my dorm and spend the rest of my day in safe solitude.
When Tanis Calls
If I ever claimed
That there’s a voice in the dark
Would you believe me?
I hear it at night
The low pulsating humming
It keeps me awake
Time fades in the breach
But I cannot stay too long
Or my mind fades too
Sometimes I wake up
In the middle of the woods
Cold and terrified
Despite the dangers
When Tanis calls out to me
I always answer
Words of Power
She had read the old musty book from cover to cover, the brittle pages threatening to crumble between her fingers at each gentle turn, almost begging for release from their ageless task. No human had touched a book in decades, breathed in the smell of old parchment, felt the sleek form of a pen between their fingers as they crafted words from an endless vocabulary, the perfect words to finish a sentence. So the volumes of books sat on their shelves in abandoned libraries, some moldy from water damage, some stolen for firestarter, none read by eager minds.
As much as people could still speak and think in words, the ability to read and write had faded. Due to technology, most people could surpass language barriers with ease, through a system of feelings and images. The new method of communication was spreading, even among the less wealthy of the population. The “mindspeak” was said to be addictive; people who mindspoke became more visibly withdrawn, less physically talkative.