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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1711090-How-and-Why-WDC-Began
by fyn
Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1711090
The ink must never dry up still stored within the pen....
Deep within the Emerald Forest, beyond the Mesmerizing Falls and beneath the spreading branches of Grandfather Oak, all the creatures and inhabitants of the wood gathered. Things were happening, strange events, and everyone was frightened. The message had been spread by the swallows to come together to decide just what needed to be done to solve the problems. Everyone knew that for them all to be called in peace beneath Grandfather's branches meant this was big. Even King Sequoia had limbered over, telling any and all who would listen that he only remembered one previous meeting, and that was when he was just a sprout and Grandfather Oak was just an acorn in someone's dream.

"Look at me! Just look at me!" said one of the forest nymphs. "I'm almost transparent."

"You?" whined a nearby voice. "You can't even see me anymore!"

"Who are you?" howled the Alpha wolf.

"See what I mean? What good is an invisible unicorn? How am I supposed for let virgin princesses find me if they can't see me?" answered the distraught unicorn.

Conversations like these were going on under every branch. Over by Grandfather's roots, a Jack-in-the-Pulpit worried that his hood was turning brown. A maple complained he was turning red and it was only May!

A teetering spider skittered by complaining, "No self-respecting spider has only seven legs!"

A salmon, poking his head up from the nearby stream, remarked mournfully, "I forgot where I was spawned! I can't go home again."

"One of the bears yawned. "I feel like I didn't get a wink of sleep last hibernation. Something is seriously wrong."

King Sequoia cleared his trunk and everyone quieted down.

"My fellow creatures of the forest. Many of you are fading away before our eyes. Others of you are seriously out of season. Some, like the walking-sticks can only run, and others, like the centipede are trying to fly. The flying squirrels are all grounded and the raccoons are out sunbathing. The fairies are nearly transparent and the unicorns have vanished altogether. The Insidious Brown is sneaking in from every direction, mutilating or killing everything in its path. My thought is that there is only one who stop this before it is too late. I have called for the Great StoryMaster's help."

A hush coated the gathered ones far below the King.

"The Great StoryMaster?" said a voice in awe.

"He's coming here?" whispered another.

"But he is the creator of all our stories! And he will help?"

The King spoke again. "The Insidious Brown is creeping in because all of you and the people beyond our wood have forgotten all the stories of Becoming. I have sent the Fleet-Feathered Quills to ask him to come and he is on his way." King Sequoia twisted his needled crown and looked off to the east. "He will be here shortly."

The animals were all in a tither. The birds were all a twitter themselves. Everyone was so excited, but more, they all now felt a sense of hope.

On the outskirts of the meadow, beyond the reach of Grandfather's branches, the Insidious Brown was seriously worried. Just the mere mention of this heroic StoryMaster was enough to send tendrils of green curling out of the newly dried earth. Ivy twirled at the fringes of his being, burning with a growing sense of doom.

Suddenly, a rooster at the edge of the Emerald Forest crowed that He was coming. The cry was taken up as each animal added his call to the fray. Bears growled encouragingly. The wolves howled songs, echoed by far distant whales who, while they couldn't attend the gathering, had set their sonar to monitor the meeting. Butterflies fluttered around his head and roses shed petals to soften his path.

Grandfather Oak boughed down before the StoryMaster who then climbed up the ancient tree until he could see all who were assembled there.

"My friends, the reason that the Insidious Brown is infecting you all is because your life-streams are weak. They need an injection of life giving ink. You need an infusion of magical mayhem and fictitious tales. The IB (as I like to call it) cannot cause trouble where the imagination runs rampant. We need new stories and to get them, we need," and here, he paused for effect, "new writers. I propose to start a writing community on the outside and their words tumbling and burgeoning forth will banish the IB forever! I will do this by the means of the Great Communication Icon known as the The Computer and I shall name it WDC."

"WDC? Oh, for We Do Create?" asked the King

"No, for Welcome Dear Creationists," said the Grandfather Oak.

"I bet it is for Well Done, Cohorts!" announced a wood nymph.

The StoryMaster smiled. "Actually, it will be for Writing (dot) Com which will be the address so that all writers, no matter their level will be able to find us. The more imaginations are used, the greater amount of fantasies spun, the more writers practice their craft, the better the world will be for all of us!"

Even as he spoke, the maple tree's leaves grew green once more and the unicorn became visible again. The spider grew an additional leg and the flying squirrels took flight in sheer exuberation. And the Insidious Brown shrunk as he slithered off and tumbled down a rocky cliff. Gathering his insidious thoughts about himself, the IB was surprised to see the Great StoryMaster standing before him.

Oozing backwards up against a stone outcropping in fear, he heard the StoryMaster speak. "There is a place here for you as well," he said. "Where ever there are stories of fear and horror, you continue to exist. Where writers write of criminal acts or envision outlandish creatures set to create evil, you will live. But there must be a balance. If you direct your energies in these directions and not against the living, then you, too, will have life. "

As the StoryMaster went whistling off to create his new world, the creatures he left behind all skittered, or flew or ambled or swam in the Emerald Forest behind Him, happy that their world was safe and dreaming about all the new worlds to come.





1st Place Winner (Challenge Level) in *How and Why WDC Was Born* contest
celebrating our 10th Birthday of WDC!
© Copyright 2010 fyn (fyndorian at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1711090-How-and-Why-WDC-Began