Glass

A story, no matter how good or bad it may be, is in the end no more than a joining of words. That's something we know. But where do the story-tellers take out their words that they put together and make stories with (good or bad)? That's what we don't know.

It has been five years since a wolf lodged in the quiet building of the Natural Science Museum of our school. And because it was too big to fit on the shelves of the glass cases among the owls and hares, it was placed on a small table in the middle of the museum. It was

excerpt XVI. THE END The blizzard howled, tumbling boulders of petty snow, gasping when hitting icy walls and cliffs or moaning and screaming along the white nowhere. You couldn't tell the sky from the earth or the ice from the water. Nature was unleashed and that

Sandy, listen to your mammy! One spring, a very tired quail – tired since she was coming from far, far away, from Africa – alighted on a plain of green wheat, close to a stand of saplings. After she rested for a few days, she started to gather twigs, dried leaves, straws

excerpt  3. THE INCREDIBLE ADVENTURES OF STING AND STUNG Sting and Stung came into being in a jar of mustard, on the very first morning after I'd dreamt of serpentine road bends and devils. Had it been necessary to invent a realm for them to come forth from – a

excerpt Attention on platform three! Please stand clear of the edge of platform three! The special train is now arriving from Oradea! Attention on platform three! Please stand clear of the edge of platform three! The special holiday train is now arriving from Oradea! The

Ting-a-ma-Ling, the Softer Feminine Software Designer, tightened her lips slightly. She could not really put up with people talking so cynically about old men, kings or no kings. And Mol-loch's way, with his sheep's eyes and smiles, obnoxiously courting her all

Once upon a time … The Witch Moon finished bordering the kitchen curtains with pieces of intricate lace crocheted by herself during the long day hours when she couldn't sleep; she finished putting the preserves in jars – the stars' favorite preserves, the ones

excerpt I May the flame of Saint Vitus strike you, bubblehead! and the slaps shot out in pair like two barrels firing in unison. The one to give them was a very upset Simion Mandruta, and the one to receive them was his rascal of a son, Toader, thin like a rake, fair-haired,

excerpt  MARGICA, PAPARUDA: You could die laughing, that's screamingly funny. Hah, hah, hah! MARGICA: Well, I never! Hah, hah, hah!PAPARUDA: Goodness sakes. . . hah, hah, hah!THE EMPEROR: But what's wrong? Why are you both speaking at the same time… what did

Once there was an old woman and an old man. The old bag had a hen and the old man, a rooster; the woman's hen laid eggs twice a day and the hag would eat a barrel of eggs; and to the greyhead she would give none. One day, the old man lost his temper and spoke:Old woman,

I was walking through the campus on a sunny September morning, which was calm, fresh, with a deep blue sky, like then. Then, just as now, the dew that fell during the night on the grass sparkled coldly and delicately. The sun was strong and gentle. Through the pure air passed,