The Lamp

I don't remember where are when mom got it, but it seems to have always been around. Are at least one of some kind.

I've seen her use it in the kitchen on an evening when for whatever reason the power had gone out in the house.

I remember it setting on top of the shelves in the bathroom for a long time. Why? I don't know.

I even remember it moving from room to room as need would have it.
The Lamp!

It is unable to do anything of it's on accord...yet it carries with it beauty and comfort in times of need.

I think back to times when mom would carefully carry it into a room and set it down on the dresser or the chest of drawers. Then with care take the chimney off and place a match to the wick. The gentle light would flood the room. At least as much as a single oil burning lamp could fill a room with light.

The lamp now sits on the edge of my desk where it has been for more than a year. I don't really use it for the light that it provides now but rather for the fragrance that it puts out. I burn a vanilla based oil and it really does fill the room with that smell. It is also pretty to look at.

The lamp stands about sixteen inches tall and is made of a very fragile glass. It is a cobalt blue and the metal parts are of a finished brass.

Yes, it is an inanimate object and it can do nothing of its own accord but it has meaning for me.

The Wolf Wins

After having the door slammed in his face, burning his behind and being generally humiliated by a bunch of little appetizers, The Wolf decided not only to get his dinner, but revenge as well. Noting the cheap drapes and natural insulation of brick, The Wolf developed his plan.


First, The Wolf gathered twigs and straw enough to surround the house (most of which was left over from the first two houses). After purchasing a few other items, the plan was coming together.


Late that night The Wolf quietly pushed his cart up to the side of the house. Working slowly and silently he surrounded the house with the tinder and primed it all with diesel. Like the perfect assassin The Wolf removed his cart and hid in the nearby forest having never been noticed. All that was left to do was fill the bottle with fuel and soak the rag. Once lit, the Molotov Cocktail was hurled into the picture window on the front of the house. As the window dressing burned, hot ashes flew out past the broken glass and ignited the straw outside the house.


An hour later, The Wolf lay against a tree contented and drowsy; pork chop bones on the ground and bacon grease on the front of his shirt.

March 2008

Hey guys, I am just posting what Elizabeth tells me. This is her premise.

Take your favorite fairytale and change the ending. Whatever you want e.g. Dumbo nose dives, Humpty Dumpty was arrested for disorderly conduct, etc. I know this is late, so length is not an issue. We all likely know the story, so just pick-up where you are changing it to save time.