Autumn

I looked up and Autumn was glaring hard, down at me, Just me.

The colours in her skin, changed, moving across her face.

Her eyes were clouds just before the storm.

I felt as though I were doing something wrong.

As though she were about to pick me up and throw me against a tree.

Her golden brown and orange hair flurried down the street and into
the church yard.

And I was held in her deep gaze until she said,
“I’m here.”

I hurried into the house, and slammed the back door.
I loved Autumn, but feared her strong presence.

I could smell her a while back, and then the air changed as Summer fled.
And Autumn cried in the distance “I will not be ignored, while you take
my harvest.

So I welcome you Autumn, even though Winter follows you everywhere and
stays far too long!

Bless you Autumn and your abundance, stay a while, take an offering and when you leave I will sweep up your brown hair and feed it to the garden.

Home

I looked behind me, I glanced and the glance turned into a long gentle study of things I liked.

Layers of open doors and curtains; peeps of a small hallway and a handmade draft excluder.

Checkered fabric pockets hang on deep grape walls that make me see, I now have a home.

A thank you card that is my view into a colourless yet atmospheric woodland.

And two carved elephants sit together whispering atop the speaker.

I do not normally allow things to sit on my speakers as they already have a function and shelves are best for sitting on if you are small and carved.

I do have chairs; that sit you up nicely! Garden green with floral prints, pinned back, upholstered and bronze studded.

Beautiful and uncomfortable and anyway I prefer to sit on the floor and admire the chairs.

There is a sofa you could slouch in, but I don't want to talk about that. Except to say that Le Chat Noir poster has slipped from its frame and glares at me from it's new home - behind the sofa.

It's 3.03pm and behind the blinds are clouds and behind the clouds is the sun.
But I still have enough colours in my room to make me see that I have a home.

Woo - A short story

Woo by Alison E Martin is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.


Woo made hungry noises with his lips. He kneaded his
Mothers breast to encourage her milk flow.

It was past his bedtime, but he couldn’t settle.

It took a while for him to drop off.

A floorboard creaked beneath his mothers weight and as she crept away, rough skin on the soles of her feet made scuffing sounds on the new carpet.

Woo heard her leaving his room, but he was too tired to fight sleep tonight. So sleep won.

It wasn’t long though, before he had his first visit of the night.

Ta ta ta was the noise on his window.

Woo woke up straight away because this was an unfamiliar sound.

He slid off his bed and toddled over to the small window.

He laid his tiny hands flat on the windowsill and came face to face with two little black eyes and a short beak that went ta ta ta on the glass.

“Hello” said Woo; in a language grown-ups didn’t quite understand.
“Hello” said a little brown bird with red all down its front.
“What are you?” Asked Woo.
“I’m a bird. What are you?” Asked the bird.
“I’m a baby,” said Woo. Then he asked the bird,
“What can you do?”
“ I can fly,” said the bird.

Woo widened his enormous brown eyes, and blinked.
“What can you do?” asked the bird.
“I can walk,” said Woo proudly, he padded up and down on the spot to demonstrate.
“What where you doing before?” asked the bird.
“I was having milk, from my mummy”
“Milk?”
“Yes, she keeps it under her jumper.”
“Jumper?”
“Yes, it keeps the milk warm.”
“Warm. Yes I know about warm.” Said the bird.
“Why are you here?” Asked Woo.
“I can’t sleep.” Said the bird.
“Are you afraid of something?” Asked Woo
“Never!” Snapped the bird’s tiny beak.
“Never?” Asked Woo.
“Do you see my chest?” Said the bird sticking it out. “There is a fire inside. A red hot fire that burns and burns and never goes out.”

Indeed it did glow a fierce bright red as he spoke.

“Maybe, that’s why you can’t sleep,” said Woo innocently.

The bird did not answer, but Woo felt heat through the glass.

“You seem to know a lot.” Said the bird.
“I know less and less each day.”
“How can that be?” Asked the bird.
“I don’t know.”
“Isn’t that annoying?” Asked the bird
“I think I am supposed to forget.”
“Who told you that?”

Woo paused and then said,
“I’ve forgotten who told me. But someone did.”

The bird glowed brighter than ever and then laughed. But it sounded like singing.
“Well I suppose you would forget the odd thing or two, if you had to remember new and serious things…like walking…”
“…Or flying!” Added Woo.

They settled on that matter and spoke about something else.

They chatted for an hour. Then Woo yawned and the bird said,
“I think you are tired.”

He yawned again and went back to bed.

He couldn’t sleep, so he toddled over to the door and tried to turn the handle, it was too difficult, so he cried.

His mother appeared at the door in seconds, plucked him from the carpet and settled him back into bed.

It was December. Frost covered everything and the garden twinkled in the lamplight. Soon it would all be under a snowy blanket.

But for now Woo was tucked under his woollen blanket.
He was warm, satisfied and dreaming of wings and the colour red.

He had not been asleep long when suddenly there was a noise at the window again, ta ta ta.

Woo stirred, turned onto his belly and curled up into a little ball.

The tapping started again.

Another visit? He opened his eyes and saw red light at the window. He sat up and glared with an intense frown.

The bird was back and he was hopping about on the windowsill.

Woo grinned. “ What are you doing?”
“I am dancing.” said the little bird.

Woo copied the bird’s movements, he fell onto his bottom and giggled.
“What did you do today?” Asked Woo watching the bird’s unusual dance.
“I ate the food you left for me in your garden and then I sat on a green gate outside a very big house and watched people come and go all day. Some of them were walking, but some arrived in fast, shiny things that growled, these things had wings too, usually four, and when the wings opened, people came out from behind them.”

“Wings? But didn’t they fly like you?” Asked Woo.
“Never, no… except one. It came from the sky last night, before the sun came up and landed on the roof! Then a man climbed out, a very big man, he was red, like me. He changed into white sparkly dust and went into the house!”

“If you changed into white sparkly dust could you get into this house?” Asked Woo.
“No I don’t think so.”
“You should try,” Suggested Woo.

So the little bird practised changing into sparkly dust by puffing out his feathers.
“Do I look like white sparkly dust now?” Asked the little bird.
“No.” Said Woo.

The little bird gave up trying and asked,
“What did you do today?”
“Today was nice.” Said Woo.
“How?”
“When I woke up I had my mummy’s milk….”
“…From under her jumper.” Remembered the little bird.
“Yes. Then she took me down stairs and everything was shiny and twinkling and everyone was gathered around a tree! I’ve ever seen a tree in the house before. There were lights on it and they were giving each other things.”
“Who?” Asked the bird.
“Everyone!”
“Did you get things?
“Yes I got things and kisses and everyone wanted to play with me!”
“That sounds wonderful,” said the bird.
Woo grinned with his eight teeth,
“It was.”
“I wonder if it was anything to do with the red man who changed into white sparkly dust.” Said the little bird.

Woo blinked hard and looked up at the sky. It reminded him of the dress his mother wore that day; dark blue velvet with sequins here and there, they shone whenever she moved.

Then he looked at the little bird and asked,
“Do you think the red man will come back?”

“I think he…”
And suddenly the little bird flew off without finishing his sentence.

Birds do that, particularly small ones; they get distracted, have no patience and don’t bother with too much explanation. .

Woo went back to bed. He curled up on top of the blankets.

The radiator ticked and creaked from time to time and Woo sighed in his sleep.

It was very late now and everyone in the house had gone to bed, Woo’s dad was the last to go. He stumbled by the tree and switched off the fairy lights. Then he finished his spicy mulled wine and made his way up the stairs.

He fumbled noisily with the stair gate, which annoyed Woo’s mother and then he switched off all the upstairs lights.

In Woo’s room there was a tapping sound on the window again.

It got louder and louder until Woo suddenly sat up, rubbed his puffy eyes and glared intensely at the window.

Ta ta ta…went the noise.

“Is that you?” Asked Woo, in a language that grown ups did not understand.
“Yes.” Said the little bird flapping at the window. “I have something very important to tell you.” His chest glowed brighter than ever.
“What is it?” Asked Woo.
“I think he only comes once a year!”
“Who?” Asked Woo, feeling very sleepy now.
“The red man.”
“Oh”
“But look!” The little bird flew down to the garden.
Woo went to the window and gasped, “sparkly white dust!”
“Yes, It’s everywhere. I think the red man left it for us.” Said the little bird.
“I wish I could have some now.” Asked Woo.
“Maybe it will still be there in the morning.”
“But what if it isn’t there?” Said Woo sadly.
“Then I will save some for you,” Promised the little bird.


They settled on that matter and spoke for only little longer, as Woo could not keep his eyes open.

“What is your name?” Asked the little bird, before he left.
“Woo.” Said the baby.

The little bird’s chest glowed with a warmth that made Woo feel very loved.
“Go to sleep now Woo.” And then he flew away.

The little boy climbed onto his blanket once more and a second later he was asleep, dreaming of wings and the colour red.

In the morning, droplets of rain on the window gleamed in the sunlight and Woo woke up with thoughts of his mummy and breakfast.

He’d forgotten all about the magical little bird that had shared secrets with him in the night and there was no sign of any sparkly white dust in the garden to remind him.

And so the day went on with it’s routine and a rhythm that made Woo feel safe.

In the nights that followed he slept soundly, and the little bird did not return.

Years later when Woo was ten, he was sitting with his grandfather in the living room. It was Christmas Eve and they had been playing a game of guessing what the presents were.

“Ok Granddad, what’s this then?” Asked Woo and he held up a package that was shaped exactly like a football.
Granddad sucked air in through his false teeth,
“Well, that’s obvious what that is, isn’t it…it’s a book! One of them dictionaries you wanted for school.” He peered naughtily over the rim of his specs.
“A book!” Woo Shrieked.

His Granddad laughed and then was silent for a few seconds.
He sunk into his armchair with a satisfied smile and nodded to himself.
And then looking thoughtfully at his grandson he said,
“I want to ask you a very important question.”
“What is it Granddad?” Asked the boy.
“Do you believe in…Father Christmas?”

Woo thought for bit and then said,
“I used to, I’m not sure.”
“Is that right?” Asked granddad, “Well, now might be a good time to be sure, Eh? After all it is Christmas Eve.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” Agreed Woo.
“Well don’t suppose too much son, it’s getting late, you’d better get off to bed.”
“Oh granddad, can I stay up for another half hour with you?” Woo pleaded.
“No, it’s time you headed on up, I’ll follow after, don’t worry”

Woo got up to kiss his granddad and as he passed the window he grabbed the curtain and pulled it aside to look.
“Granddad! It’s snowing. Look!” Cried Woo
His granddad got up to join him at the window.
“Ah yes. First time in years it’s done that in years. Just in time too. It looks just like sparkly white dust”
Woo felt as though stars had just burst in his belly, he stared at his granddad.
“What is it son?” Asked granddad
“Sparkly white dust. I know that, I’ve heard that before.”
“Really?” Said granddad.
“I don’t remember where though.” Said Woo feeling a little confused.
“I think you are tired.” Said his granddad.
“Mmmm, ok, good night granddad.” Said woo shaking his head. He hugged the old man and went to bed.

On Christmas day Woo woke up at eight o’clock. He ran down stairs to open his presents.

Granddad was sitting at the window drawing.
“Morning sunshine.” He said, “Your mum got me some new some pencils!”
“Great! I’ve got a new football!”
“Not books then?” Granddad joked.
“Where’s all the snow?” Asked Woo.
“It rained early this morning.” Said granddad.
“Oh” Woo was disappointed, then he asked his granddad,
“What are you drawing?”
“A Robin, look.” He showed the picture of a little bird with a bright red chest.
“Where did you see that?’ Asked the boy feeling strange again.
“In the pine tree this morning, bottom of the garden, by that last patch of sn…”

“ Sparkly white dust!” Said Woo, running out, “The bird said he’d save me some! I don’t know how I remember that, but I do. He never told me where he’d left it.”

Woo charged outside just as his Granddad called after him,
“What about my question!”
“What?” Shouted Woo from the garden.
“Do you believe in Father Christmas?”

As Woo delved his bare hands into the freezing heap of sparkling white dust, he felt warmer than ever before and cried out,

“YES I DO!”

Electric Blue

Electric Blue by Alison E Martin is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

Electric Blue
Here he is again knocking on my door, I could run
I know he’d like me to, I know he could make me run.
Save me again from this love thing
Save me from this pain, it’s all-good right now -
Yeah, but wait ‘til tomorrow, when I wake up.
Wait ‘til the light hits the truth; it was always there, never hides.
The truth was there but I did my best not to see it,
Even walked around it - damn…I nearly fell over it
And when it jumped up and waved its arms in my face
I turned my back on it, and when it flashed electric blue, at the corner
of my eye and every single one of my instincts screamed
‘FUCK! Did you see that?’
I said, ‘see what?’
‘There! There! Look, check out the truth!
It’s bright electric blue; don’t tell me you can’t see it’
I said, ‘sorry man - I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
And my instincts shrieked ‘YOU’RE A LIAR!’
But I’m havin’ sooo much fun and the truth don’t matter right now.
But In the morning… it’s a different kind of light.
In the morning, I see it now, in everything; the sheets, the pillows,
the duvet, the carpet, the walls, the ceiling, in everything the light hits; my skin, his skin
and the crease on his foot that looks like a smile.
And I close my eyes ‘cos I don’t want to look, but when I close my eyes,
all I see is electric blue.
Copyright © Alison E Martin 2007

The Bee Fur Coat

Wilbur Jones’ skin baked in the heat of a July afternoon in Memphis. His sweat-stained vest barely covered his portly black belly.
He and his nephew Bo were working on the Landowner’s garden. They had agreed to finish the work sometime that week or not get paid.

Wilbur had a question for the boss. He took his hat off, letting his dark head soak up the heat. He leaned into his shovel, puffed out a loud breath and raised his eyebrows.

“It’s hot.” He said finally, cringing at his poor attempt. Boss did not reply so Wilbur went on awkwardly. “ ‘Bout what time you say we could finish?…Boss?”

Boss was sat on a wooden crate close by. He took his time before answering. He was a softly spoken man. It was the only soft thing about him. Finally he spoke. “You can finish when he does.”
“Who?…him?” Asked Wilbur looking confusedly at Bo.
“Nope…” Boss rose slowly from his seat and the boys’ eyes followed him all the way up. He gestured towards a plant growing up higher than all the other herbs.

A bee dipped in and out of some blue star shaped flowers, attending each one thoroughly.
“Him?” Wilbur queried, his face a picture of bafflement.
“Yep. When he finishes for the day, you can stop too.” Boss gave a generous smile, but that was the only generous thing about him.

Bo was thinner by comparison to his uncle. His tan dungarees were slightly too tight for his lengthy toned thighs and stopped above his ankles. His complexion was fair with dark freckles.

Bo’s intense brown eyes crossed as he followed the bee closely. He removed his sun hat and scratched through a thick auburn Afro. Wilbur nudged him. “C’mon Bo, less get goin’.”

Boss pushed his hands down into his pockets and stood straight, around 6 foot 8’ even without his sun hat and boots. Both boys eyed him warily for a moment or two, then got on with their work.

Boss began chuckling to himself, shaking his head slowly. His laugh got so loud that the two boys had to stop pretending they didn’t notice.
“If you don’t mind me askin’ Boss…” But Wilbur asked anyway. “…What’s so funny?”
“Hmm? What’s that?” Asked Boss.
“I was wondering…well… you’re laughin’ Boss.”
“Oh…yeah, well…It’s Macey.”
“Macey?…Your granddaughter?”
“Uhuh…yep, Macey.” He lowered his head and chuckled some more. He had a way of only partly answering questions like that. Forcing you to draw it out of him.
“What about her, Boss?” Wilbur bit down on his irritation, to keep it inside. He was still nursing a split ear from the last time he pushed his luck with Boss.
“Awe, no, I’ve taken up enough of you boys time already.” He turned suddenly and walked away. Bo was perplexed, he glanced at Wilbur for some clarity, but Wilbur just looked on incredulously as Boss headed for the house.

Wilbur shook his head, wiped his face with a rag and picked up his shovel again. As he did this, he noticed Boss had stopped and was turning back.
“Damn.” He cursed down under his breath and with his head lowered. “What he want now?”

Bo rolled his eyes and carried on digging. Boss was already talking as he approached them. “…Awe now I suppose I could tell you boys all about it, I mean, it was funny as hell.”

Bo stopped working; he put down his spade and walked back to take his seat up on the grass verge again.
“Get up!” Ordered Wilbur harshly. Bo threw him a hard frown.
“Let him alone Wilbur,” scolded Boss.
“Sorry Boss, I was just…” He stopped explaining when he saw the irritation across Boss’s face. He quickly followed his nephew and sat down, shoving him up to show that he was still in control.
“Not you Wilbur,” said Boss. “You better carry on with the digging, I expect you’re one of those clever types that can work and listen all at the same time.” The sarcasm did not go undetected.
“Yes Boss.” Wilbur pulled himself up sulkily and carried on digging.
“Now where was I? Yes that’s right, Macey. Oh boy, that little girl made my day!
Do you know what she said to me this morning?” He asked, then paused, but interrupted as soon as Wilbur attempted to answer.
“…She came running into the kitchen all exited and full of fizz. She always sparkles, you know. When she gets an idea into that head of hers…. ‘Grandpa! I want a fur coat.’ She says…so I says…a fur what? And she says, she wants a fur coat. So I scratches my head, cos she got me all confused you know, she’s young and I’m old…”.

Wilbur felt as though he was pushing this story up hill and Boss was in
the drivers’ seat with the brakes on. But he was too afraid to ask Boss to get off the
brake a little and change up a gear or two. Wilbur detested work; but if he did not get back to it soon, they could be there until long after dark.
“So I says…”continued Boss “…I says to her, what kind of fur coat you want honey? And do you know what she said?”
Bo’s face begged for an answer. So Wilbur spoke for both of them.
“What did she say Boss?”
Boss laughed some more and shook his head.
Wilbur leaned in hopefully.
“A bee! Hah Hah!” Boss roared. “Ain’t that the cutest thing you ever heard!”
“A bee?” Quizzed Wilbur.
“Sure! Like that one over there, with his black and yellow fur! Well that’s
what she wants…A coat made from BEE FUR! Well then she asks me if I could make it for her.” He chuckled.
“What did you tell her Boss?” Asked Wilbur.
“Well of course I said no! What d’you think I said!?…” Boss looked at Wilbur dubiously. “…I told her that it would take a thousand bees like that one, to make one coat, even for a tiny little thing like her. Now wouldn’t it?”

Wilbur nodded wearily, he was visualising the obese 11 year old, forcing a large fried dumpling into her mouth last Wednesday.

“Anyway.” Boss continued. “She was disappointed. So, I told her that she could have some fish instead and that you two boys would have most of the pond dug out for her by tonight!”
“TONIGHT!” Blurted Wilbur, forgetting himself.
“Is that alright with you Wilbur?” Boss was expecting only one answer. But Wilbur faltered.
“I.. I…Well I suppose…I…? ”
“…Wonderful!” Exclaimed Boss. “Boys, that’s just wonderful! Macey’ll be so happy!”
Wilbur tried to make a smile.
“Well …I’ll be back in a the morning.” Said Boss.
“I suppose.” Said a crushed Wilbur.
“Well don’t suppose too much boy.” Boss said, and he looked down at the dry dirt. He dug into it with the toe of his boot.
“Grounds real tough…I’ll leave you boys to get on….Aah, look how hard that little things works. Boss studied the bee. He’ll be here a good long while; so you got plenty of time. ” And with that final word, he turned again leaving the three of them alone together.

Bo and Wilbur considered the bee for a few seconds too, it noticed they were watching, but paid them no mind.

Early the following morning, Wilbur was out with the dawn chorus eagerly awaiting some talk of payment. A loud bang from the direction of Bosses house sent the crows up into the morning sky. Wilbur recognised the sound as gunfire. More firing. But Wilbur was not counting the shots; he’d heard them before on most mornings. It just meant Boss or his wife scaring off birds or dogs from around the porch. Finally the shots stopped and Wilbur could see Boss making his way towards them.

As he approached, he did not look at Wilbur but kept his eyes fixed on the hole the men had dug for his granddaughter’s pond. It only needed to be lined and filled with the water now.

Bo was sat back up on a grass verge again; he looked on as the two men conversed.

“We almost finished up Boss, stayed up here ‘til that bee stopped working and left.”
“Oh yes, I see that Wilbur…” said Boss.
“So I was wondering if I c…if we…” he glanced back at Bo to show he had also considered his nephew. “…If we could get paid… a little earlier? Boss?”
Boss had still not looked at Wilbur.
“Looks a little shallow.” Said Boss.
Wilbur said nothing.
“What time did he leave?” Asked Boss.
“What?” Asked Wilbur, anxiously.
“The bee.” Said Boss searching the flowers. “What time did he leave Wilbur?”
Wilbur needed rescuing. “Oh, er…Bo?…Bo?”
Bo looked up.
“That bee…What time did he leave?…around six? Right?” Asked Wilbur.
Bo shrugged unhelpfully.
Wilbur spoke with his mouth spread across his teeth, but it wasn’t real smile.
“Around six.” Wilbur decided. “But er..Bo wasn’t really payin’ attention. Heh heh.” He gave Bo a filthy look and turned back to find Boss glaring right at him.

There was an awfully long silence, and Wilbur was afraid of what Boss would say next, but wished he would say something.
“Remarkable.” Said Boss finally.

Again Wilbur was forced to carefully extract an answer from Boss. He felt a prickly heat around his neck like he had been stung a hundred times.
“W..w…what’s remarkable Boss?”
“Around six?” Boss rubbed his forehead; he looked as though he was concentrating hard. Trying to figure something out. Then he shook his head and sighed dramatically,
“Nope, it’s no good…no, no, I can’t figure it out”.
Wilbur suddenly needed to pee. Now with his bladder filling and his neck itching he was finding it hard to keep it together. He shifted from one foot to the next.
“C..can’t f f figure what out Boss?”
“You say the Bee left around six?”
“Y yes Boss, I’m sure he did!”
“Well, that would make sense. Because I came out here around eight and he was gone!”
Wilbur nodded hysterically. “Well yes boss! Exactly. Like I said, He already left!”

Boss unbuttoned his coat and Wilbur noticed the butt of a gun behind his belt. He took it out and began to clean it. Wilbur was suddenly desperate to remember how many shots he’d heard…was it five? Six? But his thinking was all over the place. Then without a word Boss straightened his arm and aimed at where Bo was sitting.

There wasn’t a sound now, except urine hitting the dry dust around Wilbur’s feet.

“Everyday, I come out here.” Said Boss. “And every night those bees leave at the same time. That’s how I know.”
Wilbur rubbed his neck frantically and kept glancing over his shoulder to find Bo.
“Know what Boss?”
“That you are a liar Wilbur.”
“What?” Wilbur sweated and scratched the stinging bumps on the back of his neck.
“ Now what time, did I say you could leave Wilbur?”
“Y y y you said…I.. we c c could…”
“WHAT TIME!?”
“When the bee left Boss, you said we could leave when he did.”
“And when did it leave?” Boss now aimed the weapon directly at Wilbur’s head.
“Six!! Boss it left at six.”
Boss squeezed the trigger.
“Please boss! PLEASE!” Begged Wilbur.
The softness in bosses voice made Wilbur want to cry.
“Come on Wilbur, speak up?”

Boss suddenly felt a gentle tapping on his arm and he saw out of the corner of his eye that Bo who had left the grassy verge, was standing to his left, just behind him.
“What is it Bo?” asked Boss still aiming at Wilbur. “Don’t distract me now?”
But Bo kept on tapping Bosses arm until he snapped.
“Well if you ain’t gonna talk, get round here so I can see you!”
Bo shuffled from behind Boss, who was still focussed on a terrified looking Wilbur. Wilbur watched Bo and bit into his lip.

“What you got there?” Asked Boss, glancing at Bo’s outstretched hand.
Wilbur shook his head at Bo. “It’s nothing Boss…is it Bo?”
“Shut up!” Snarled Boss. He took a better look into Bo’s palm and then up at Wilbur.
Then he held out his own hand.

Bo dropped the contents of his hand into Bosses so willingly that Wilbur gaped in disbelief.
“Well, well…looky, looky..” Boss tutted slowly.
“W w w w what is it Boss?” Wilbur stuttered.
“You don’t know?” Asked Boss.
Wilbur didn’t answer. So Boss approached, with his palm outstretched.

But of course Wilbur knew very well, that a crushed bee lay in the centre of Bosses hand, and he had no lies left in him. He was full of them earlier and had planned to sprinkle them sparingly, but through panic he now poured lies on everything.

Wilbur was still desperately trying to remember how many shots he’d heard earlier. As his mind raced, Boss looked down on him and spoke gravely.

“I’m certain that you have almost run out of lies Wilbur, but I’m even more certain that you have maybe… one left.” Boss raised his gun again. “If that’s true, I wonder if you intend you use your last one, or… will you spare me?” The sound of metal clicked.

“Alright! Alright! I did it. I killed it, I killed the bee!”
“And why did you do that Wilbur?” Asked Boss.
“Because…” Wilbur snivelled. “…Because I wanted to leave early, and that damn bee wasn’t gonna leave ‘til after eight!”

Boss sighed deeply. Lowering his weapon. “All I asked you to do was dig a pond for Macey. Wilbur, that wasn’t so hard…was it? I mean, it wasn’t as if I’d asked you to do something really hard, like…make a coat out of bee fur.”

A cold thought suddenly struck Wilbur. He wondered if Macey had truly asked for such a thing. It occurred to him that Boss might even have made the whole thing up, just to make a point.

Boss reached out to Bo. He was surprised when the young man did not flinch, but secretly it pleased him. He patted the him firmly on the shoulder, then walked away.


When he reached a few yards, he stopped and spoke without turning.
“Wilbur. I almost forgot…You can put the dirt back in that hole now. Macey changed her mind about the fish. You know how little girls are.”

Bo turned to Wilbur and asked a question by holding his hand up and rubbing his thumb and fingers together.
Wilbur answered vacantly “No Robert…I don’t think we’re gonna get paid.”

Boss walked away, leaving the three of them alone together.

Little Wing...a little story

Little Wing by Alison E Martin is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

Little Wing...a children's short story.



A bright green dragon flew across the hot blue sky. He might have been from Russia,
But I couldn’t be sure.

He wore emeralds strung about his throat, wrists and ankles.

As he sailed towards the cloudless horizon he noticed something flickering below him.

He stopped in mid – air and shifted his small head from side to side.
Then he decided to drop a half a mile to get a closer look,
What he saw interested him greatly,
There was a great forest below with a large clearing. In its centre he saw a green flame.

It glimmered and glowed like nothing he had every seen before, so he decided there
and then to go down and claim it for himself.

He alighted close to the flames and warmed his hands and wings. Then he sat for a while scheming, in the green light.

Soon he was completely mesmerized.

Nearly one hour had past, though it only seemed like minutes and he was deep in daydreams, when he suddenly sensed he was not alone. He looked around, but there was nothing; then he looked up and was most annoyed to see another dragon hovering above.

“Blast!” he cursed.

Up in the sky was a shimmering red dragon. He might have been from India, but I couldn’t be sure.
He wore a gold crown with a ruby in its centre.
He’d immediately spotted the flame, and was extremely exited.
“Ah!…A red flame, how delicious, I shall swoop down and claim for myself”

But before he’d finished his sentence, he spotted the green dragon.
“Oh what a pain,” he thought himself, I shall have to get rid of him first, then I can
have those flames.

Then trying to seem disinterested, he drifted down gracefully and alighted gently next to the green dragon.

The green dragon pretended to be pleasantly surprised.
“Oh was a pleasant surprise,”

“Likewise…” Lied the red dragon, “…and what has brought you to this part of the forest, oh magnificent one?”
“Oh nothing really, I just spotted a warm flame and decided to rest here for a while.
“Mmmm.” The green dragon thought, this was not likely.

So they sat eying each other suspiciously; now and then flashing the most insincere smile.

Soon they were both now gazing into the fire. The red dragon saw red flames and the green dragon saw green.

Another hour passed, when both dragons became aware of another presence.

They both looked up at the same time and were horrified to see, another dragon.

This one was a rich and deep purple colour. He might have been from Africa. But I couldn’t be sure.

He wore a silver tunic with amethysts for buttons.

He had been hovering for some time now and seen the flames just as they had.

Well this dragon was not shy at all.
“Oh what a glorious purple flame, I must have it at once!” He boomed paying no attention to the other dragons.
He did not drift down gracefully nor float gently. He thundered to the ground like
A roaring meteor and smashed into the other dragons sending them both hurtling into the trees.

“Ha Ha Ha,” he bellowed “What a glorious purple flame!”

“I beg your pardon.” Said the green dragon, shoving tress aside and stumbling back over. “But the flame is green and I was here first.”
“What difference does that make?” Fumed the red dragon, “ Are you stupid? They are not green, they’re red!” and he snapped his jaws shut and twisted his mouth.

“You are both idiots.” Boomed the purple dragon. “And utterly wrong! For any fool can see, the flames are purple…Therefore, they are mine!”

“It’s red!” …“Green!!”…“Purple!!!” They argued.

Things were getting unpleasant and the dragons were starting to do more than just argue.
Now they were fighting.
The earth trembled as they bashed and bullied, pushed and pulled, bit and scratched, even spat boiled breath and hurled balls of fire at each other.

Now not too far away at the edge of the clearing was a tall tree with branches could poke through clouds. In the highest branch of the tree was a nest, and in that nest, was a baby owl. She was still fluffy and pale grey.

Now everyone knows that owls are the wisest creatures in the world and even baby owls know a thing or two…about a thing or two.

She had been watching with a widening gaze the whole scene unfold from beginning to now. It wasn’t looking too good and she was worried.

So she decided to call out to the battling dragons.
“Ooooh ooo.” She called.
They did not hear. So she called out again, louder. This time they heard but they did not listen.

So being brave as well as clever she stood on the edge of her nest and flapped her tiny wings. She flapped those wings faster and faster and faster…then she jumped!

It was a long way down, but she landed, fairly safely on the ground.

But it was too late.

Oh dear” she sighed softly “This is awful, there are bits of dragon everywhere. There’s an ear there and a foot there, a wing over there…and oooh, I don’t know what that is. What shall I do? What shall I do?”

Then suddenly she heard a friendly voice from inside herself and it said
“Put them back together again”
“Yes!” she said aloud, “I could do that.”

So feeling confident, she started to sew the pieces back together. She was kept very busy all day, stitching, matching and sticking and was having a lot of fun.

It was early evening and she was almost finished. She was fairly satisfied, but had an funny feeling that something was not quite right.

“Never mind”, she said and swept the doubts into the corner of her mind.

She carried on until the last dragon was put back together again.

“There!” she cooed with pride “As good as new”
She smiled at her work, she grinned at her work and she beamed at her work.

But the dragons were not smiling.
They were looking at each other in a very strange way. Then they were looking at Baby owl in a very strange way, and she stopped smiling and began to feel afraid.

Green dragon spoke first.
“What have you done? Why do I have red ears?”
Then the red dragon cried out, “Why is my tail green?
Then the Purple dragon made a low growling noise.
“Never mind your tail and your ears!…” he raged. “…JUST LOOK AT MY WINGS!! One in red and one is GREEN!”

Baby owl’s heart sank when she realised her error.

So there it was and there it is. Owl had been very creative, but all the dragons were now different colours.

They began to lurch towards her. They stuck out their fierce claws, showed their huge pointed teeth and snarled. They towered over the tiny owl and were ready pounce, but suddenly the green dragon shouted out,
“Look!”
And they stopped. “Look at the fire” he gasped. So they looked.

“It’s purple.” Said the red dragon.
“And red.” Said the green dragon.
“And green.” Said the purple dragon.

“It’s all of those colours…” Said the Owl brightly. “…And more if you care to look closer”

So they did look closer and they saw yellow, orange, blue, pink, turquoise even black. They saw in that fire every colour that ever was, colours they’d never seen before; colours they didn’t even have names for.

They forgot their argument and their difference and that evening; when the sun dipped into the horizon and the earth pulled on her dark coat. The three dragons and baby owl sat together around the wonderful fire and named all the colours. The had so much fun coming up with all those funny names.

They became best friends and the dragons lived for a thousand years each, But owls don’t live that long. So Baby owl grew up and when she was ten, she died. The mournful dragons cried for ten years each.

Then they carved her picture in a tree. The same tree she had bravely jumped down from as a baby. And under her picture they wrote some special words.

Our very best friend. Little Wing. Queen of the Dragons.

Copyright © Alison Martin 2009

The Bee Fur Coat

The Bee Fur Coat by Alison E Martin is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

The Bee Fur Coat - A short Story

Wilbur Jones’ skin baked in the heat of a July afternoon in Memphis. His sweat-stained vest barely covered his portly black belly.
He and his nephew Bo were working on the Landowner’s garden. They had agreed to finish the work sometime that week or not get paid.

Wilbur had a question for the boss. He took his hat off, letting his dark head soak up the heat. He leaned into his shovel, puffed out a loud breath and raised his eyebrows.

“It’s hot.” He said finally, cringing at his poor attempt. Boss did not reply so Wilbur went on awkwardly. “ ‘Bout what time you say we could finish?…Boss?”

Boss was sat on a wooden crate close by. He took his time before answering. He was a softly spoken man. It was the only soft thing about him. Finally he spoke. “You can finish when he does.”
“Who?…him?” Asked Wilbur looking confusedly at Bo.
“Nope…” Boss rose slowly from his seat and the boys’ eyes followed him all the way up. He gestured towards a plant growing up higher than all the other herbs.

A bee dipped in and out of some blue star shaped flowers, attending each one thoroughly.
“Him?” Wilbur queried, his face a picture of bafflement.
“Yep. When he finishes for the day, you can stop too.” Boss gave a generous smile, but that was the only generous thing about him.

Bo was thinner by comparison to his uncle. His tan dungarees were slightly too tight for his lengthy toned thighs and stopped above his ankles. His complexion was fair with dark freckles.

Bo’s intense brown eyes crossed as he followed the bee closely. He removed his sun hat and scratched through a thick auburn Afro. Wilbur nudged him. “C’mon Bo, less get goin’.”

Boss pushed his hands down into his pockets and stood straight, around 6 foot 8’ even without his sun hat and boots. Both boys eyed him warily for a moment or two, then got on with their work.

Boss began chuckling to himself, shaking his head slowly. His laugh got so loud that the two boys had to stop pretending they didn’t notice.
“If you don’t mind me askin’ Boss…” But Wilbur asked anyway. “…What’s so funny?”
“Hmm? What’s that?” Asked Boss.
“I was wondering…well… you’re laughin’ Boss.”
“Oh…yeah, well…It’s Macey.”
“Macey?…Your granddaughter?”
“Uhuh…yep, Macey.” He lowered his head and chuckled some more. He had a way of only partly answering questions like that. Forcing you to draw it out of him.
“What about her, Boss?” Wilbur bit down on his irritation, to keep it inside. He was still nursing a split ear from the last time he pushed his luck with Boss.
“Awe, no, I’ve taken up enough of you boys time already.” He turned suddenly and walked away. Bo was perplexed, he glanced at Wilbur for some clarity, but Wilbur just looked on incredulously as Boss headed for the house.

Wilbur shook his head, wiped his face with a rag and picked up his shovel again. As he did this, he noticed Boss had stopped and was turning back.
“Damn.” He cursed down under his breath and with his head lowered. “What he want now?”

Bo rolled his eyes and carried on digging. Boss was already talking as he approached them. “…Awe now I suppose I could tell you boys all about it, I mean, it was funny as hell.”

Bo stopped working; he put down his spade and walked back to take his seat up on the grass verge again.
“Get up!” Ordered Wilbur harshly. Bo threw him a hard frown.
“Let him alone Wilbur,” scolded Boss.
“Sorry Boss, I was just…” He stopped explaining when he saw the irritation across Boss’s face. He quickly followed his nephew and sat down, shoving him up to show that he was still in control.
“Not you Wilbur,” said Boss. “You better carry on with the digging, I expect you’re one of those clever types that can work and listen all at the same time.” The sarcasm did not go undetected.
“Yes Boss.” Wilbur pulled himself up sulkily and carried on digging.
“Now where was I? Yes that’s right, Macey. Oh boy, that little girl made my day!
Do you know what she said to me this morning?” He asked, then paused, but interrupted as soon as Wilbur attempted to answer.
“…She came running into the kitchen all exited and full of fizz. She always sparkles, you know. When she gets an idea into that head of hers…. ‘Grandpa! I want a fur coat.’ She says…so I says…a fur what? And she says, she wants a fur coat. So I scratches my head, cos she got me all confused you know, she’s young and I’m old…”.

Wilbur felt as though he was pushing this story up hill and Boss was in
the drivers’ seat with the brakes on. But he was too afraid to ask Boss to get off the
brake a little and change up a gear or two. Wilbur detested work; but if he did not get back to it soon, they could be there until long after dark.
“So I says…”continued Boss “…I says to her, what kind of fur coat you want honey? And do you know what she said?”
Bo’s face begged for an answer. So Wilbur spoke for both of them.
“What did she say Boss?”
Boss laughed some more and shook his head.
Wilbur leaned in hopefully.
“A bee! Hah Hah!” Boss roared. “Ain’t that the cutest thing you ever heard!”
“A bee?” Quizzed Wilbur.
“Sure! Like that one over there, with his black and yellow fur! Well that’s
what she wants…A coat made from BEE FUR! Well then she asks me if I could make it for her.” He chuckled.
“What did you tell her Boss?” Asked Wilbur.
“Well of course I said no! What d’you think I said!?…” Boss looked at Wilbur dubiously. “…I told her that it would take a thousand bees like that one, to make one coat, even for a tiny little thing like her. Now wouldn’t it?”

Wilbur nodded wearily, he was visualising the obese 11 year old, forcing a large fried dumpling into her mouth last Wednesday.

“Anyway.” Boss continued. “She was disappointed. So, I told her that she could have some fish instead and that you two boys would have most of the pond dug out for her by tonight!”
“TONIGHT!” Blurted Wilbur, forgetting himself.
“Is that alright with you Wilbur?” Boss was expecting only one answer. But Wilbur faltered.
“I.. I…Well I suppose…I…? ”
“…Wonderful!” Exclaimed Boss. “Boys, that’s just wonderful! Macey’ll be so happy!”
Wilbur tried to make a smile.
“Well …I’ll be back in a the morning.” Said Boss.
“I suppose.” Said a crushed Wilbur.
“Well don’t suppose too much boy.” Boss said, and he looked down at the dry dirt. He dug into it with the toe of his boot.
“Grounds real tough…I’ll leave you boys to get on….Aah, look how hard that little things works. Boss studied the bee. He’ll be here a good long while; so you got plenty of time. ” And with that final word, he turned again leaving the three of them alone together.

Bo and Wilbur considered the bee for a few seconds too, it noticed they were watching, but paid them no mind.

Early the following morning, Wilbur was out with the dawn chorus eagerly awaiting some talk of payment. A loud bang from the direction of Bosses house sent the crows up into the morning sky. Wilbur recognised the sound as gunfire. More firing. But Wilbur was not counting the shots; he’d heard them before on most mornings. It just meant Boss or his wife scaring off birds or dogs from around the porch. Finally the shots stopped and Wilbur could see Boss making his way towards them.

As he approached, he did not look at Wilbur but kept his eyes fixed on the hole the men had dug for his granddaughter’s pond. It only needed to be lined and filled with the water now.

Bo was sat back up on a grass verge again; he looked on as the two men conversed.

“We almost finished up Boss, stayed up here ‘til that bee stopped working and left.”
“Oh yes, I see that Wilbur…” said Boss.
“So I was wondering if I c…if we…” he glanced back at Bo to show he had also considered his nephew. “…If we could get paid… a little earlier? Boss?”
Boss had still not looked at Wilbur.
“Looks a little shallow.” Said Boss.
Wilbur said nothing.
“What time did he leave?” Asked Boss.
“What?” Asked Wilbur, anxiously.
“The bee.” Said Boss searching the flowers. “What time did he leave Wilbur?”
Wilbur needed rescuing. “Oh, er…Bo?…Bo?”
Bo looked up.
“That bee…What time did he leave?…around six? Right?” Asked Wilbur.
Bo shrugged unhelpfully.
Wilbur spoke with his mouth spread across his teeth, but it wasn’t real smile.
“Around six.” Wilbur decided. “But er..Bo wasn’t really payin’ attention. Heh heh.” He gave Bo a filthy look and turned back to find Boss glaring right at him.

There was an awfully long silence, and Wilbur was afraid of what Boss would say next, but wished he would say something.
“Remarkable.” Said Boss finally.

Again Wilbur was forced to carefully extract an answer from Boss. He felt a prickly heat around his neck like he had been stung a hundred times.
“W..w…what’s remarkable Boss?”
“Around six?” Boss rubbed his forehead; he looked as though he was concentrating hard. Trying to figure something out. Then he shook his head and sighed dramatically,
“Nope, it’s no good…no, no, I can’t figure it out”.
Wilbur suddenly needed to pee. Now with his bladder filling and his neck itching he was finding it hard to keep it together. He shifted from one foot to the next.
“C..can’t f f figure what out Boss?”
“You say the Bee left around six?”
“Y yes Boss, I’m sure he did!”
“Well, that would make sense. Because I came out here around eight and he was gone!”
Wilbur nodded hysterically. “Well yes boss! Exactly. Like I said, He already left!”

Boss unbuttoned his coat and Wilbur noticed the butt of a gun behind his belt. He took it out and began to clean it. Wilbur was suddenly desperate to remember how many shots he’d heard…was it five? Six? But his thinking was all over the place. Then without a word Boss straightened his arm and aimed at where Bo was sitting.

There wasn’t a sound now, except urine hitting the dry dust around Wilbur’s feet.

“Everyday, I come out here.” Said Boss. “And every night those bees leave at the same time. That’s how I know.”
Wilbur rubbed his neck frantically and kept glancing over his shoulder to find Bo.
“Know what Boss?”
“That you are a liar Wilbur.”
“What?” Wilbur sweated and scratched the stinging bumps on the back of his neck.
“ Now what time, did I say you could leave Wilbur?”
“Y y y you said…I.. we c c could…”
“WHAT TIME!?”
“When the bee left Boss, you said we could leave when he did.”
“And when did it leave?” Boss now aimed the weapon directly at Wilbur’s head.
“Six!! Boss it left at six.”
Boss squeezed the trigger.
“Please boss! PLEASE!” Begged Wilbur.
The softness in bosses voice made Wilbur want to cry.
“Come on Wilbur, speak up?”

Boss suddenly felt a gentle tapping on his arm and he saw out of the corner of his eye that Bo who had left the grassy verge, was standing to his left, just behind him.
“What is it Bo?” asked Boss still aiming at Wilbur. “Don’t distract me now?”
But Bo kept on tapping Bosses arm until he snapped.
“Well if you ain’t gonna talk, get round here so I can see you!”
Bo shuffled from behind Boss, who was still focussed on a terrified looking Wilbur. Wilbur watched Bo and bit into his lip.

“What you got there?” Asked Boss, glancing at Bo’s outstretched hand.
Wilbur shook his head at Bo. “It’s nothing Boss…is it Bo?”
“Shut up!” Snarled Boss. He took a better look into Bo’s palm and then up at Wilbur.
Then he held out his own hand.

Bo dropped the contents of his hand into Bosses so willingly that Wilbur gaped in disbelief.
“Well, well…looky, looky..” Boss tutted slowly.
“W w w w what is it Boss?” Wilbur stuttered.
“You don’t know?” Asked Boss.
Wilbur didn’t answer. So Boss approached, with his palm outstretched.

But of course Wilbur knew very well, that a crushed bee lay in the centre of Bosses hand, and he had no lies left in him. He was full of them earlier and had planned to sprinkle them sparingly, but through panic he now poured lies on everything.

Wilbur was still desperately trying to remember how many shots he’d heard earlier. As his mind raced, Boss looked down on him and spoke gravely.

“I’m certain that you have almost run out of lies Wilbur, but I’m even more certain that you have maybe… one left.” Boss raised his gun again. “If that’s true, I wonder if you intend you use your last one, or… will you spare me?” The sound of metal clicked.

“Alright! Alright! I did it. I killed it, I killed the bee!”
“And why did you do that Wilbur?” Asked Boss.
“Because…” Wilbur snivelled. “…Because I wanted to leave early, and that damn bee wasn’t gonna leave ‘til after eight!”

Boss sighed deeply. Lowering his weapon. “All I asked you to do was dig a pond for Macey. Wilbur, that wasn’t so hard…was it? I mean, it wasn’t as if I’d asked you to do something really hard, like…make a coat out of bee fur.”

A cold thought suddenly struck Wilbur. He wondered if Macey had truly asked for such a thing. It occurred to him that Boss might even have made the whole thing up, just to make a point.

Boss reached out to Bo. He was surprised when the young man did not flinch, but secretly it pleased him. He patted the him firmly on the shoulder, then walked away.


When he reached a few yards, he stopped and spoke without turning.
“Wilbur. I almost forgot…You can put the dirt back in that hole now. Macey changed her mind about the fish. You know how little girls are.”

Bo turned to Wilbur and asked a question by holding his hand up and rubbing his thumb and fingers together.
Wilbur answered vacantly “No Robert…I don’t think we’re gonna get paid.”

Boss walked away, leaving the three of them alone together.
Copyright © Alison Martin 2009