Story: [[Finding a Home]]

Winter 1863-Little Match Seller.

Please tell me why mother would make it so cold?
I feel it in my toes, they are like icicles hanging from the ledge above me.

I feel it in my fingers that are as cold as the wind that blew through my hair. I didn’t know what I did so wrong at home, to deserve this. I tried to sell those matches, I really tried. All those people with their nice warm coats, all those ladies with crocheted hats, they look so warm as warm as a log fire.

Little Match Seller-TopIllustrations

Here I’m dressed in burlap, a tattered apron and no shoes on my tingling toes. So, sad to think that these little matches in my basket would have saved me from the bruises on my cheek and the lashes on my back. Most of all it would have saved me from, being tossed out like the trash. Why do I have those matches you may ask? In my terror, I grabbed what I could and the only thing I managed to grab before the slap on the face was my basket.

It’s been hours now, I have yet to warm myself, I rub parts of my body to attempt to be warm and even lit all my matches. Nothing is helping, I will die here. I have no doubt. My eyes drifted and I felt so tired. I began to see images as vivid as the night my mother locked me in the closet. What a memory to end my days with, that’s a memory I never wish to resurface ever again.

Winter 1863-Lonely Old Woman.

Brr, that’s all I wanted to do that cold winter day. I had bundled myself as much as I could, my bread basket filled with warm bread. It was selling like it had never sold before. I had made enough money that Winter to survive for many years afterwards. I was as blessed as ever, I had a drafty home, but a warm fire. I had books to pass my days in the Winter and I had stored apples from the fall to make as many apple pies as my stomach could hold. It was, it is a simple life, but it was lonely.

I had dwindled away my younger years, in search of something far more than what I was capable of. I sought out dispassionate men and was faced with many unsavory characters, but throughout that I had a mother and father who was wonderful. Showered me with love and

Lonely Old Woman-LesenVisagers

encouragement, wished nothing but the best for me.  Sadly, they had died in a carriage accident when I was only seventeen. I was unmarried, but courting a man they never really cared for. He spent his days in pubs, squandering his measly earnings and at night he would visit the local whore house for what I was unwillingly to give. It was with these moments that I found that I was stronger on my own and with courage and the poverty I knew I would face I denied his proposal of marriage.

It was the best decision I could have made at the time, even now I would have rather been poor than the wife of a scoundrel.

This Winter was no different as the others, I only sold more bread. I wandered the streets in search of throwaways. It has always amazed me what the wealthy would toss. I found chairs with broken legs that I fixed by carving wood myself. I found clothing and shoe with holes, that all they needed was a steady hand to sew. It's amazing how much you learn when you only fend for yourself.

It was unexpected to find the poor thing that would change my life that night. She was bruised and blue, her baby toes curling and turning a black. The poor thing tried to warm herself as I took off one of my extra shawls and wrapped her as good as I could, placing her body against my breast. I walked the miles to my home, hoping and praying to my god she would last till I got her under my quilted covers.

Thankfully, she did.

Winter 1864-Little Match Seller and Old Woman.

It had been a year since we found one another.

The Happy Home-StarliteCafe

Old Woman:  I bundled her up so, and found some hose to put on her feet, managed to cover her fingers with over-sized gloves. I made her potato soup and a hot tea.

Little Match Seller: She took care of me that day and it was the first time I felt love. I was lucky she found me and just as lucky my mother didn’t care to. The first moment I woke up and saw her face I knew I was home. She was my real mom, not the one who birthed me and left me to die.

Old Woman: It is with her awakening that I knew that I would never be unloved, lonely and that the wished of my own parents so long ago has at last come true.

Little Match Seller/Old Woman: At last we were home.

Author's Note:

This was one of my favorite stories I read this week and it was also one of the saddest. I changed only minor things and I hate to give spoilers, but I feel like I must so you understand the changes I did make. First of all, I made it to where on the brink of death the Little Match Seller survived the cold and I highlighted her abuse in a way to really pay respects to abuse victims. The lonely old woman and her entire backstory is of my own creation. I thought a kind woman, the exact opposite of the Little Match Seller's own mother would showcase that there is still good people in this world. Since the Little Match Seller did not die I felt no need to revisit her visions, but instead I focused on the feelings and recollection of her past. Most of all, I wanted a happy ending for the young girl because the story just broke my heart.

  Fairy Tales and Stories by Hans Christian Andersen, translated by H. P. Paull (1872).

Hans Christian Andersen, Fairy Tales and Stories

I drew inspiration from LHOP (I grew up with this show!) I see the Match Seller as Caroline Ingalls in the future. All because an old woman took kindness on her. I think this video showcases how different the Little Match Sellers future will now be. I hope it makes sense.

Story: [[Down the Rabbit Hole]]

Story Title-Yvonne

Run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch me I'm the inventor of "Oh yes, I can!"
I see what you did there, when you took my time machine.
I see what you did there, when you through me down a wishing well.
I see what you did there, when you screamed a girl can't!
I see what you did there.
I felt your hands, they were so cold. I felt your hands, reaching in that dark hole.
Were they? I don't think so.
Did you steal it, did you make it your own? That invention I did not sell, the lady-like endeavors you gave as excuse for my callous disappearance. I was tarnished when you through me down that hole. You greedy rabbit of a man, looking at the clock.
Tick-tocking, tick-tocking away your heart. You through me down that hole, I saw your top hat leaning over as the watch flew past my head.
Down we went and down we sped.

HG Wells-ImgArcade

What's that over there to my right? 
Is that my telescope? Is that my heat ray? I see them fall, with me down. I no longer see your face.
They said where ladies dresses, they said mind your manners. They said don't question, they said don't...
Oh, I didn't listen.
Wishing well, a man through me down a wishing well.
Where is the end? Why haven't I hit it?
What is that, is that my babble machine? Is that my chair?
Maybe that's my book and maybe that's my desk? 
Oh, what is that smell in the air?

Down the Hole Into Madness-CargoCollective

I ran, I ran as fast as I could. How did they catch me the greedy rabbit and the greedy men.
Top hat? Bottom hat, sideways hat. Hat in the air hat on the ground.
Oh! I think I have lost my mind.
Why, oh why? Why did I make that machine, that machine? What machine was that? The topsy turvy machine.
No, no surely that is wrong. I can't remember.
Dark, so dark. I spin, I turn I see the kintescope.
Kintescope! I'm a inventor. I'm,I'm!
I ran I ran so fast. I fell I fell just as fast.
I saw you I did, you were a bird. A dodo bird, as dumb as bricks. 
Spinning, wheeling, running, falling.
When will it end.
Down this dark hole, the rabbits hole?

HG Wells-DeviantArt

I see nothing, I hear nothing.
My head, my heart.
I see what you did there.
I see that you didn't care.
I told you my secrets, I told you my soul.
You sold me out for a piece of gold.
I rebelled I said no, no, no! 
You said It doesn't matter.
No one would listen because I didn't do as I was told.
You gathered some men. you gathered them together and behold, the other men were told and they wanted a piece of that gold!
As I fall down this deep dark hole.
I see nothing.
I see nothing.
I see nothing, oh no!
Oh no! 
I closed my eyes, I closed them so.
I hit the water, I think.
I don't know. All I see is darkness all I see is nothing.
All I hear is nothing.
I'm gone.

Author's Note:

In Alice in Wonderland, Alice falls down the hole after chasing the white rabbit, in the hole she sees various things and her mind begins to play tricks on her causing her to rhyme and think incoherently. In my story, it is not Alice that falls down the hole, but it is HG Wells that gets thrown down a well.Yes, the HG Wells. I wanted to really show what it would be like for someone else to fall down the hole, especially someone who is supposed to have a scientific mind. A showing of a sane person's descent into madness. I decided to change the gender of HG Wells because I thought it would have been more powerful, if it was a woman and her life's work was questioned. Not only that it would cause insane jealousy on the part of the men. In Victorian times, women were not seen to have the ability to do many things and I wanted to show the possibility of what could have happened in these cases. In my story, unlike Alice, HG cannot cope with the attempted murder she was faced with and begins to question everything about herself. It's not an imagination gone wild like it was Alice, it's a more darker descent in being able to cope. I didn't want everything to be the same and that's why instead of a hole it's a well and in my story the rabbit, the mad hatter and others are metaphors for different men that were chasing her. In the end the I'm gone. Is supposed to symbolize the loss of her mind completely.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll (1865). Alice in Wonderland.
H.G. Wells: Science Fiction Technology and Ideas

Story Planning: [[Fire Shaman]]

I still feel rather sick and I opted for Story Planning, I hope that's okay.

Fire Shaman as a Young Man-MTP

• The Little Boy and Girl in the Clouds: "...that the burning logs and the red coals took on a curious shapes and made odd shapes only he could understand.
• He sees visions in the fire and people go to him.
• Research animals that mean different things in American Indian Lore.

Animals Researched:

• Manataka Animal Spirit Guide and etc.

EX: "Bear is spirit keeper of the West, the place of darkness, maturity and good harvest.  From this place, Grandfather Bear gives strength, introspection and knowledge. 
Bears are active during the night and day.  This symbolizes its connection with solar energy, that of strength and power, and lunar energy, that of intuition. It enhances and teaches those with this totem how to develop both within themselves.
Grandfather Bear is a solitary dweller and master of his domain.  This teaches us the importance of independent thinking and to seek peace in quite meditation to    
Bears are sensitive to Mother Nature's cycles.  They sleep long hours in the winter living on fat stored in their bodies.  It teaches us how to go within and find the resources for survival and how to remain balanced amid change.  This medicine is a reminder of the great circle of life and rebirth, renewal and fresh beginnings. 
The stars above in infinite meadows of heaven show us the Great Bear in the Sky, Ursa Major, as a sign of the greatness and infinity of bear wisdom.    
Bear is the embodiment of strength and is fierce to a threat on its lair.  It is not wise to come between the mother bear and her cubs, teaching us ways to always protect those we love.   

Fire Shaman as Old Man-Pinterest

The bear holds the teachings of introspection. When it shows up in your life pay attention to how you think, act and interact. 

Use Bear, Elk and Eagle. 

Man goes to the Fire Shaman and asks help to gain knowledge and strength to overcome the hurdles of being considered a handicapped American Indian. The Fire Shaman suggests that the bear that he will fight in the great forest will give him the strength and knowledge that only he can give. That is when he will be happy and get all that he desires."

• Each person coming to fire shaman will start off as a weakness and a strength is given to them by the way of animal. Not all will have to kill the animal. One has to kill (represent strength that they need) One has to take the eyes of an Elk to gain observation. Lastly, to be a "clairvoyant listener" one must convince the owl that they mean no harm, it is then the owl gives the person a gift.
• Owl gifts: Maybe something a long the lines of a magical fruit or nut of some sort that the person must ingest to gain the eyesight. I like the idea of introducing a very normal piece of food with magical abilities.

The shaman lives out the last of his days surrounded by peace after having helped various people find their own happiness. His powers grew weaker as he got older. It is this weakness that he was able to find solace from his own mind.

American Indian Fairy Tales 

by W.T. Larned, with illustrations by John Rae (1921).

Little Boy and the Girl in the Clouds.

Story: [[Qalagánguasê, The Ghost]]

"They tied me to the post, to go to a silly singing competition! Oh, what truly vile creatures they are!"

I stood there looking at my lifeless body, with arms crossed my chest. My lame leg as evident in my death as in my life. The lameness causing my body to curve towards the right. I tilted my head to left as I looked at the lifeless figure before me.

"Well… that looks awkward. I wonder if anyone will find me.”

The Thieving Woman-TheDiscoverBlog

As if on cue a woman that I have never laid eyes on rushed into the barn and right through my body, causing a gasp of cold air to be released on the back of her neck. Stopping dead in her tracks she shivered, but only briefly as she bent down and rummaged through my coat pockets. Pulling out what little money I had, she backed away slightly. Undoubtedly trying to figure out what to do with my body.

Frustrated that she had walked through me as if I DIDN’T EXIST (I obviously had not registered fully the fact I was no longer living). I reached out and slowly touched her shoulder. She jumped as high as a fish in the great ocean and let out a blood curdling scream when she realized she was “in the room alone”.

“Hahahaha!”, my voice echoed through the barn.

As I watched her face turn as white as an arctic fox, she dropped the items she was attempting to steal and ran out screaming.

Rubbing my ghostly hands together and letting out a low snicker I spoke out loud to no one, but myself.

“The fun I will have with this is endless… Now those men who did harm to me, will now give me endless laughter in my afterlife and one of them will get his dues.”

The Stage-Pinterest

With my leg no longer lame in death, I rose up ten feet and floated off to the stage. A good six miles away. It took me only a few minutes to get to the stage. Each man was lined up before steps to ascend the stage. Each waiting their turn at winning the singing competition that will make them not only wealthy, but famous men.

The freedom of being a spirit led me to get on stage when “not allowed” and I waited patiently as one (of 3) the men came on stage and preceded to walk towards the mike. He leaned towards the mike and opened his mouth and at that moment, I walked forward and entered his body. I looked out at the crowd before and was amazed that this body I was in was so nervous, because he was so confident when he left me in the barn.

Suddenly, I spoke into the microphone, or better yet the man spoke in the microphone…wait…WE spoke in the microphone…Yes, that’s better.

“Twinkle, Twinkle little star… I killed a man in the barn…I tied him to the post and called him a dope. Now, I hold out hope that you will make me pope.”

A man with a long, bushy beard from the audience yelled out of the audience. “We don’t have a pope doofus!”

Loud laughs echoed throughout the audience and with that I stepped out of the man as he stood their shocked. I’m sure he knew what happened to him, but luckily for me I was stronger as a spirit then he was a human man.

Running off the stage he lived out his life in his hut, mumbling about popes and singing competitions.

The Three Men-McCordMuseum

The second man, whom I would have described as “short stature”, with gangly arms.

I knew this one would be easy, because all he was, was a sidekick. Walking forward yet again. I gripped his arm with my ghostly hand and curved it like a ballerina and the second arm, I curved on his hip. Then I spun him around. Making it look like he was a ballerina from a jewelry box.

No longer in control of his movements, he spun off stage, the crowd unsure about what was happening stepped back as the man fell to the ground. The audience eyes wide, they stepped around him, ignoring him there eyes focused on the next person to get on stage.

Don’t worry though, the guy wasn’t injured…physically, but his pride was definitely gone. From then on out he was known as the dancing ballerina and lived out his live in ridicule.

The last man, was the leader of the pack. He was 6 ft tall, broad shouldered and as he came on stage the women swooned and the men puffed out their chest in defense.

The ringleader would get the worst embarrassment.

Reaching my hand in his throat, his head falls back with his mouth open. His head moving back down slowly, I moved his mouth life a puppet.

“This morning…me and my friends...the two before me. Killed a man in the barn. We tied him to a post...we made him lose all hope and as he pleaded for his life we left the room in laughter and came to this stage. I’m guilty of this…"

Qalagánguasê, The Ghost-EENADuIndia

If the stage was inside you could hear a pen drop, but seeing as the stage was outside, all you heard was audible gasps. Sure, the audience could laugh off the others, but this man of 6 ft was not known as being exactly dishonest. Brute yes, ladies’ man yes, but a liar? No, definitely not.

Taking my hand out of his body. He stood there in shocked silence.

It would only take a few short minutes for the man to get pulled off stage and the barn to be raided. My body found, the man was to be sentenced to death that day. As far as his comrades? They figured that living out their life with the ridicule and an unsteady mind was punishment enough.

Author's Note: The story is based off the Eskimo Folktale "Qalagánguasê, Who Passed to the Land of Ghosts." In the story Qalagánguasê was a man who had a lame leg, who was often weak. He was given the gift of strength if he did not tell anyone how he came about it. Well, he made the mistake of doing so to some men. These men tied him to a post and preceded to go to a singing competition. In the story Qalagánguasê basically begs for death and eventually dies and goes to the afterlife. It was one of my favorite stories of the Eskimo Folk Tales, but it was also one of the saddest. Which, is why I attempted to draw humor out of the really dark situation. Then I felt like Qalagánguasê deserved some sort of justice. So, I made it where he dishes the justice out. In the story nothing happens to the men and you don't know what happens at the singing competition, which gave me a prime opportunity to do something. Also, in the story Qalagánguasê did not become a ghost, but I decided to make him into a ghost to give him some power because he seems to have none in the story. There is no real ending to the original and I know that was the main reason why I wanted it to have one. The reason why I never gave one to Qalagánguasê is because it is told at the beginning of my story he is to live out his days "haunting" the men.

Eskimo Folk-Tales  by Knud Rasmussen with illustrations by native Eskimo artists (1921).
Qalagánguasê, Who Passed to the Land of Ghosts

[[The Beauty of the Tree Woman]]

Before Total Transformation-JoannaRuckman

Branches and bark. Leaves and sap. I have branches for hands and my head..where could my head be? All I know is there are things growing out of it in every direction. It often gives me headaches because it feels like its always growing. Always growing up and away. Often times passerby's will ask me why? Why tree woman,why would you be stuck in this form?
I simply say it starts like this...
She was beautiful, her skin was a creamy dark brown and her lips luscious as they were formed the most dazzling smile.  Beautiful and large brown eyes and a perfect button nose. She was the embodiment 
of beauty, in her tribe. Her name was as pretty as her face, her name was Afi.

"I do not like fish! I do not! I do not!" Faizah spoke like a

Faizah-Redbubble

spoiled woman, which she was.
They were all as poor as they could be, but Faizah was not. Her father was the tribe leader and he was as selfish as her daughter. Faizah, was the exact opposite of Afi, she was not beautiful because her soul was as tarnished as old brass. She was also a jealous girl, she wanted and she took. She dictated and she threw away perfectly good food because it did not taste good to her. Needless, to say she was rotten to her very core. Her biggest problem was that she had an acute fear of fish. Her child servants always made it her mission to cut off the heads of fish before serving it to her, if not she would slap her hand across their little faces.

Thinking that she could rid the tribe of Faizah (whom was worse than her father and was sure to control the tribe as her father past on to the other world). She thought she would send the bravest warrior of the neighboring tribe to woo the tribe princess, maybe softening her heart.

Elimu-Margrit

"You must do this Elimu! That is the only way we could be rid of her future tyranny!"

"I cannot Afi...She is as dark as the wolves that come out at night, to feast of the flesh of our youngest."

"Elimu! Please! Our fate..is dismal.."

Elimu thought about it for days, Afi was right Faizah would starve us all, at least her father would give a scrap here and the there. The daughter would give none. Only two days passed before he came to this decision and he promptly saw Afi at the river washing her cloth and bent down next to her to tell her the news.

"You are right...I must, not just for the sake of us, but for the sake our tribe."

The Fish Faizah Hated-LiamsC9

Afi clapped her hands together happily, then her face fell as quick as it was lit up.

"There are things you must never do Elimu. You must always cut off the heads of the fish, the very fish we try to feed our own families with. If you do not I fear the death of not only you, but me as well. This is because as soon as she sees this fish whole she will know the trick we played on her."
"Do not worry yourself Afi, I will not. You are safe, now finish washing those clothes fore there will be a wedding to attend."

Afi did as she was told.
Faizah accepted without trepidation because Elimu was the greatest warrior and they all thought that he would marry the beautiful Afi, because they were always together. Anything to take away from Afi, Faizah was happy about because she was jealous of her beauty and her

Elimu's Remembrance of Afi-Etsy

ability to connect to other members of the tribe. Something Faizah could never do.
They lived together blissfully, for many years. Even after she was granted leadership of the tribe. Just as Afi predicted she was happy and therefore did not reek havoc. If only Elimu was happy, he had loved Afi since he was a child and wanted her more and more everyday. The years were slow and miserable for him, but everyday he gave Faizah the headless fish. One faithful day Elimu was contemplating his miserable marriage by the river Afi and he would sit by talking. So engrossed into his memories he did not tell the child servants to cut the heads off of the fish. This was the biggest error for Faizah was angered and the truth of her marriage was out. In a furious and jealous rage she condemned Afi to live a life of a tree, watching her loved ones pass on daily. As for Elimu, she had the river witch drown him right were he sat.

Afi as a Full Tree Woman-BidorBuy

That is the story I always tell passerby's, so they will know to be careful of the tribe they are a few miles from, because no longer was it a tribe full of kind people. It was now a tribe full of death, murderers all lead by the evil tribal queen. Even though I'am stuck in this form, I tell them that it is my punishment because I sent the great Elimu to his death.

Author's Note:

I took two stroies from Note of the Folklore of the Fjort and combined them together to make a more epic story. The stories were The Vanishing Wife and the Other Vanishing Wife
In The Vanishing Wife a woman lures a man to her and promises and tells him that he must always cut the heads off the fish he gives her if he does not she will disappear and in the second story
I wanted to give a reason why the first wife did not like fish and thought I could make her a villain even though she originally was not. I thought it would be a good explanation as why the girl in the The Other Vanishing Wife was turned into a tree. The sending of the man was the idea of a Afi and that caused all that happened with the husband. I also wanted to give the characters of an identity because the woman did not have one to began with and I wanted everyone to feel a personal connection to them, therefore I named them. The mans named did change though because the character changed, in the original the man was not a warrior, but a poor man ridiculed and beaten by his brother. I did not want that, I wanted him to be a warrior, a lovesick warrior that does not think his actions through in the end. Another inclusion is the love a woman, the only difference instead of two different man loving two different women, in two different stories. I combined it all together and because I liked the second story just as much as the first I made her be the one that the man truly loves.

Notes on the Folklore of the Fjort by Richard Edward Dennett (1898).

Story: [[The Neighbor Didn't Know]]

There was once a dog that came to him a dream.

His Fur as white as snow.

His eyes as blue as the cold.

He said to him in a dream:

“Be careful for he wishes to do harm to thee.”

“Watch out for his words as they are fake.”

“Watch out for his actions for they won’t take.”

“Don’t let him know, don’t let him see, that I gave these dreams to avenge me.”

---

There was once a neighbor as greedy as can be.

His eyebrows furrowed in coldness.

His has hand as calloused as his soul.

He spoke of his neighbor with contempt:

“I want what he has, this heart of mine”

“Look at him flaunt his riches, look at him flaunt his wife.”

“Look at him flaunt his home, look at him flaunt his fruit.”

“Look at him eat as if he wasn’t once a peasant like me.”

There was once a man as gentle and kind as can be.

His luck was unparalleled.

His dreams weren’t just dreams.

He was living out his life as giving and not as dumb as he seemed.

“Do not falter, do not notice. I see his eyes...through the trees”

“What tricks could he possibly conspire, which tricks could possibly succeed?”

“He killed my dog for riches, riches he will never receive, now he transpires to kill me?”

“Oh pray, do protect me!”

---

The day grew long and the neighbors grew weary.

One stayed up out of fear and another stayed up to make plans.

They each drifted to sleep, each dreamed endlessly.

The dog came to him in a dream…the evil neighbor dreamed an unholy dream.

The fangs of the dog was bloodied, his coat of fur was as black as coal.

His eyes were red as rubies.

His soul as dark as the evil neighbor’s soul.

“Do not dare...you evil doer!”

“Do not dare...you evil fiend!”

“Do not dare...you evil creature!”

“Do not dare! Do not take the life of that man, do not cut him from navel to nose”

“Your evil ways are finished, look at what you have made me become!”

The evil man set up frightened.

The evil man did not dare.

He sold all his belongings.

He bid his family farewell.

He ran away to the mountains to sit a long spell.

To contemplate his life, to contemplate his evil ways.

“Oh woe! The gods of the forests! Do guide me in my forgiveness!”

“Do guide me in what I shall do, to rid me of the nightmare dream!”

“To rid me of my nightmare of my evil doings!”

A god formed from the ground as holy as he could be.

Even though this god was covered with dirt, and even though this god couldn’t see…

He spoke with the voice of the kindly man, the evil man deceived.

“Guide me to your home...guide me to the man that you hurt”

“For what you wish, will be…”

The evil man guided, he traversed and he wept for forgiveness.

He found himself on the doorstep of the man he hurt.

The man with kind eyes and the heart that beat as twice as his own.

The kindly man looked at him, saddened by what he saw.

His heart ached for his disheveled appearance.

His heart ached for his real grief.

The god appeared beside the evil man as clean as the robes on the rich man’s chest.

“Your heart aches for your neighbor…your dog wished this to be”

“The dog wished the neighbor to be as humbled as a bee...”

“So, I helped the dog send the dreams…I helped your dog give you riches…and now I help this man with forgiveness.

“Do you give this man what he seeks?”
The good man only thought briefly.

The good man only thought for less than a second.

“I’m a good man, and a good man is what I see…my dog is correct to think this is what I wanted my evil neighbor to be...”

“He is no longer evil to me…”

Author's Note:

 This was one of those spur of the moment ideas. I'm really trying to do different things with my stories and I have always had a soft spot with poetry (in particular I love writing it). So, that is the reason why the last minute my original idea changed. Originally, I was going to bring the dog back to life and cause the evil neighbor to lose everything for his wicked ways. I still held onto his loss, but made it by choice. I hated the evil neighbor. I mean he was horrible, but I wanted him to redeemed and also taught a lesson. Dreams are a big part of the original story so I wanted to make that a big focus point. Then the idea of a greedy man selling off his prized possessions for solace and forgiveness is very rare occasion. The only way it could really happen is if he was frightened into his grief (etc.). That's where I kept the idea of the dog, but turning his role around briefly, because in the story he's an innocent victim. It was flipped temporarily and his actions were explained in the end. The idea of the dirt God was a way to make sense out of the dog being able to connect with his owner and the evil doer through dreams. As far as the good man is concerned, I felt no reason to change his character because his character was so good. All in all, I'm really proud of what I have written and I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I did writing it!

P.s. In the past I had people say that the coloring made it hard to read. I tried to tune the coloring a bit. If it's still a little bit off, please comment. I'm trying to find the right shades. Thanks bunches! xJessica

The Violet Fairy Book by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1901).

Story: [[Recipe for Disaster]]

What a disaster the lab was. There were jars on the wooden tables of every shape and size. There were leaves hanging from the ceiling: oak and ivy, banana leaves and pine needles. Every once in a while someone would see a lone pine cone dangling from a piece of string. Ready to be plucked, everything was ready to be plucked. 

Ralsey the Alchemist-Pinterest

There were mounds of sand, dirt. Pink, purple, orange, tan, white every color of the sun lining the walls and in the center of the tables there were ten thin, glass cylinders from ceiling to floor. These glass cylinders were lined up, back to back between the tables, which were all situated to face them. Every ocean, river and stream flowed through these cylinders making a woosh sound every time a new body of water was filtered into the cylinders. With a push of the button from the alchemist's hands there would be a new batch of water. He had it all memorized, the alchemist did, he was that smart. He knew the colors of the ocean and where they were located, the colors of the sand and where they were located. He knew everything and anything about nature. He knew how to bottle clouds and lightning, snow and sleet. He was a master of nature and now, he wished to bottle it up in jars, the disasters he will create to help replenish areas of the world, marred by nature. His name was Ralsey and he was a descendant of the ancient Egyptians. Some say he may have been Ra in a past life, but he never believed in that wishy-washy science. He had goggles over his eyes that sometimes he pushed to the top of his head, because you can never be too careful. He sported a long white coat with pens tucked in the pocket and gloves that reached his elbow. The gloves were rubbery and tough to penetrate. 

1 quart of Atlantic

1 ounce of sand (any kind)

1/2 quart of salt

and a dash of bottled rain clouds.

Jarred Ocean-TheArtTent

"Ahh, at last. I have bottled a tsunami. May whoever holds it in their hands do so with responsibility and the realization of its consequences."

Oh, and was the person who obtained the jar not aware of its consequences. The person who was to use this jar broke it on the side of a ship. He caused a great tsunami to wipe out the island of Bermuda, making a vortex of natural disaster, now known as the Bermuda Triangle.

 1/4 pound of Amazon dirt

5 lbs of Amazonian trees

2 lbs of various leaves

and a dash of greed.

Jarred Amazon-Tumblr

Did I mention that the Ralsey can bottle greed? He doesn't do it that often because greed is one of the most dangerous of sins. This time he felt confident that a caring person would use it wisely.

"I'm frightened by the very thing I have created." He held the jar up in the light to look at its contents. "For the person who wields this jar can cause so much damage..."

The alchemist was right to be frightened, because who else would get the jar, but greedy logging companies? Taking down Amazonian trees and eradicating  homes and animals, those logging companies helped cause deforestation.

60 lbs of wind

10 lbs of thunder

1/4 cup of southern rainwater

2 lbs of  hail

and a dash of destruction.

Jarred Tornado-YouTube

"Oh Hail! One of my most dangerous creations! It can wipe out an entire city. Now, I must hide it, for no one must cause the destruction. It may stay locked away so as not to cause another disaster."

If only it was that easy...

Later that evening, Ralsey's lab was broken into and his prized jar was stolen, by none other than a teenager who thought it looked cool. Little did he know, when they traveled back to Oklahoma, they would unleash an F5 tornado and wipe out not one, but two towns causing death, homelessness and suffering.

"No more! I cannot make any more of my recipes being used for maliciously! The world has taken my jars and used them for malicious purposes! The jars were powerful and caused so much harm! They could have used it during the Sahara drought to replenish the desert to its former self! They could have been used to plant beautiful trees in southern Africa and they could have given winds to the hottest island! Instead they used them for their stupidity, greed and curiosity!"

...and so the alchemist Ralsey did stop and he locked himself away in his lab to undo the destruction his creations caused. Ralsey would spend many years, trying and trying to undo the harm. Potion after potion and many sleepless nights was just simply not enough. He went mad with the idea of the total chaos he had caused and he suffered an untimely death. It all happened when he mixed the wrong concoction and an explosion of the worst kind destroyed his entire lab and all the work he had accomplished.

Author's Note:

In the story the author mentions there is a jar that holds a flood. I thought that it would be a great idea to really do something different. I thought it would be great to really show another style of writing where the ingredients are front and center and the character is an add on. In the original story the character of Ra is front and center, but not here. Here he is a background character to the ongoing of destruction. Ra is a sun god in Egyptian mythology and is considered the chief cosmic god. Ra is the center of many stories that I read in Egyptian Myth and Legend and I decided to continue that tradition in my own. In the particular story I chose bits and pieces of the story and gathered them together to make my own. In the traditional
story, the god Nu mentions a great flood and that is where
the brainstorm of destruction comes from. I was inspired by the traditional story, and this particular scene: "... The jars were emptied out as was his desire, and the land was covered with the flood." Ra is subjected to people proclaiming he is not fit to be ruler anymore. Then he calls on various Egyptian Gods to ask them what to do because those helped create spoke against him. Ra then sent Hathor to destroy them. The introduction of the jars is seen as a way to not only destroy his enemies, but a way to save mankind. 

Egyptian Myth and Legend by Donald Mackenzie (1907).
Ra and Hathor-Egyptian Myth and Legend