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    The Maiden of Avril: A Collection of Stories and Poems
    The Maiden of Avril: A Collection of Stories and Poems
    The Maiden of Avril: A Collection of Stories and Poems
    Ebook95 pages1 hour

    The Maiden of Avril: A Collection of Stories and Poems

    By J. B. Scott

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    About this ebook

    The maiden of Avril: A collection of stories and poems explores a wide variety of topics. Martians, dragons, stepparents and Princesses are just the beginning. These fast-paced stories and poems bring to life the age-old idea that anything is possible. "Lions and tigers and shoe addict, oh my!" These are just some of the characters youll meet along the way.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateJul 31, 2015
    ISBN9781504922500
    The Maiden of Avril: A Collection of Stories and Poems

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      Book preview

      The Maiden of Avril - J. B. Scott

      The

      Maiden

      of Avril

      A COLLECTION OF STORIES AND POEMS

      J. B. SCOTT

      27384.png

      AuthorHouse™

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403

      www.authorhouse.com

      Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640

      © 2015 J. B. Scott. All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

      Published by AuthorHouse 07/28/2015

      ISBN: 978-1-5049-2251-7 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-5049-2250-0 (e)

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      CONTENTS

      Acknowledgements

      1. Now

      2. Then

      3. Now

      4. Then

      5. Now

      6. Then

      7. Now

      8. Then

      9. Now

      10. There

      Word Glossary

      Egg Stealers

      A collection of poems

      A Martian writes home

      Celtic Dreamer

      The Gingerbread Man

      A day at the races

      Friends????

      Where is the me of yesteryear

      A poem to poetry

      Takers

      Confessions of a shoe hoarder

      What you do to me

      ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

      To my childhood friend and world’s most annoying little brother. Here’s to the imagination of children and time well spent.

      1. NOW

      Your father is dying?

      Dying?

      I mean if you do not help him he will die.

      No. She trembled.

      Yes. He whispered.

      Help him how?

      He can only get well with the tea made from this flower.’ Teniah held it out to her. It was white with small black dots and pink leaves. He said you can find more of these. That you know where to look."

      Yes. I know. Holly took the flower delicately in her palm. It is called La fleur de nuit, night flower. It only buds at night, which is the only time it can be picked.

      How far away is it?

      Not far, a day’s journey toward the setting sun. She turned to him, saw his eyes darting back and forth eyeing her friends. She had forgotten how imitating they looked.

      We should go now, He shifted his weight to the other hoof.

      I will show you on the map. She walked around her makeshift throne to the back wall. But I cannot come with you. She pushed in a glazed blue brick; a section of the wall shifted and slid out of the way to reveal rows and rows of stacked scrolls. Taking one of them she said, Here in the middle of the Leto Mountains there is a waterway that runs through it, that is where La fleur de nuit grows.

      I don’t understand; why aren’t you coming with me? Maybe you don’t understand. He’s ill, very ill.

      This is where I belong. This is my home. I cannot leave

      No Avril is your home. I’ve traveled night and day trying to find you. You can’t stay here your kingdom needs you.

      She stiffened, biting down on her lip, I think it’s time for you to go. Eureka, make sure our guest finds his way out. Then speaking to Teniah, We wouldn’t want you to get lost. A caracal moved toward him from her post. Her pupils narrowed as she closed in. He took slow, cautious steps backwards. He could see that her head and tail were up, her ears up and out like she was hunting. Once she had backed him out of the castle Eureka sat guarding the entrance, her green eyes dazzling in the moonlight as she watched Teniah disappear into the forest.

      Inside Holly looked at the map; she traced her finger across it. Pass the Leto Mountains she came to Avril. He was wrong; it was a place that had never really been her home.

      Ill. Dying. Help him. Father.

      She was confident her visitor could find the flower alone. They didn’t need her help.

      No one did.

      The rain fell heavy in the morning but he didn’t care. If he couldn’t go inside then neither was he leaving here without her. So he waited. He stood resolute like a solider guarding treasure. Finally the heavy oak door opened, Holly emerged, shielded from the rain by an awning at the front of the castle. She stopped cold when she saw him. He hadn’t left like she thought he would. A moment passed between them; then several. One thing became clear to Holly: he wasn’t leaving and she wasn’t going.

      Teniah laid his head back against the rough bark of a tree. Another one of her friends appeared at her side, this time a lynx named Skandia, rubbed herself against Holly’s leg in ownership of her. Her loving attention stopped as she sensed a threat to her environment. Skandia turned her nose up to sniff the air; she caught his damp scent carried on the wind. She sat at her mistress’s side not trusting her alone with him. Although she seemed to relax knowing it was only him. She glanced across the field with no more idle curiosity.

      Holly turned to go back inside but stopped at the door to look back at him. Then with a nod of her head she gestured him to follow. Skandia trotted at her side. She stopped when she stopped, walked when she walked.

      Teniah shook off the wetness. Thanks, it was staring to get cold out there.

      The rain will let up soon and then you can be on your way.

      A man’s life is hinged on your willingness to help, a man who gave you life. I can’t do this alone. I may get lost or look in the wrong place. Please.

      I don’t want him to die but I don’t really see how I can help. I’ve never been there. I read about it a long time ago in a book. She handed him back the flower he had left behind.

      Come anyway, I’ve already lost so much time trying to find you that I don’t know how much longer he can live. His voice trailed off, he was practically begging. She thought of her sick father.

      "The flower where it grows

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