Brief prose and poetry lacking other categories... |
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Basically anything under 1500 words. Enjoy
The poem which won 1st place at "Rebel Poetry Contest" The poem which placed second at "Writing 4 Kids" The story which placed second at "The Bard's Hall Contest" The story which placed first at "Writing 4 Kids" The poem which placed second at "Rebel Poetry Contest" |
| Winnie the Pooh was awakened one morning by an urgent knocking at his door. He sat up, rubbing sand out of his eyes. His clock was stuck at half-past smackerel time, but it was too early for visitors. Stumbling to the door, he found Owl, still wearing a nightcap, his feathers tousled. “There’s an emergency on our hands!” Pooh checked his paws to see if they were sticky. “I don't see any Merjensee on mine,” he said, puzzled. “Is that like Marmalade?” “No indeed! A hurricane's coming. We must convene a consortium – formulate a plan of action.” “I'm sorry, Owl…” Pooh scratched his head. “I'm a Bear of little Brain. Big words confuse me. What is a hurry-cane?” “It’s a big whirling storm. We have to check on everyone.” Owl flapped his wings. “Come help!” “Certainly. But…” Pooh looked past Owl's shoulder at the bright sunshine filtering through autumn leaves. “The weather looks lovely. How do you know there's a storm coming?’ “It’s in my almanac.” Owl waved a thick, yellowed paperback in the air, taking off in search of Piglet. Pooh followed, pausing to snatch a honeypot from his pantry. One by one, they gathered their friends to Owl's treehouse for a meeting. “What's happening?” Piglet asked, ears quivering. “I knew it was hurricane weather.” Eeyore shook his head. “We're doomed.” “We'll be alright, dear,” Kanga soothed. “Hoo-hoo-hoo!” Tigger bounced on his springy tail. “Are hurricanes good bouncing weather?” “How absurd,” Rabbit grumbled. “I must prepare my home for the storm. No time to lollygag!” Pooh sat beside Piglet, not saying anything because his mouth was full of honey. Owl cleared his throat, perching on his front porch railing in the tree. He adjusted his glasses, flipped through the almanac and announced his findings. “According to expert calculations, a hurricane is scheduled to arrive tomorrow afternoon. Gale-force winds, torrential rains – an increased probability of rising floodwaters and downed trees. All precautions must be taken accordingly.” Pooh raised a sticky paw. “Where should we take the precautions to?” “Do they stay with us during the hurry-cane?” Piglet asked. “There is no need to fret,” Owl declared, authoritatively gruff. “Allow me to explain the accepted protocols…” Just when Pooh was dozing off while Owl lectured, Christopher Robin appeared. He raised an eyebrow at the group's anxious expressions. “What's wrong? Did Eeyore lose his tail again?” “There's a hurricane coming!” Rabbit harrumphed. “Tell Owl I need to go batten down my hatches!” “Really? I haven't heard.” Owl showed him the almanac. Christopher Robin studied it carefully. He laughed and ran a hand through Owl's head feathers. “Silly bird, this almanac is three years old! There isn't any hurricane at all. If there was, I would know.” Owl looked around, coughing awkwardly. “Oh dear me… Well, at least now we know how to prepare for one.” “We do?” Pooh sat up straight again, feeling important. “Let’s go play Poohsticks.” Christopher Robin waved everyone along the wooded path. “Remember, if there's a storm, I'll keep you all safe.” |