Stories.

A story doesn't have to be really long to get it's message across. It doesn't even need to be more than a couple of sentences. Here's an example -

"I woke up this morning to find a photo on my phone of myself sleeping.

I live alone."

It's short, it's sweet. It has context, you get the theme from it. It leaves you with chilling thoughts. It is a good story. But it's so short. Of course, it can be expanded upon. The two sentences could be extended to a much longer story, possibly even a book. But those sentences are enough. So little carries so much. That is the beauty of words.

Fortune Cookies

Chinese is one of my favourite foods. I was buying a Chinese take out last year for myself and a friend of mine. And we decided to get fortune cookies too. Now, I'm aware that they are a tradition brought in by Americans, but those things are dang tasty. And I've always liked seeing what the fortunes have to say.

On this occasion my fortune read "Your dearest wish will come true."

I thought, "Oh that's nice. I don't really believe it, but that's nice."

I decided to keep it. It's been safe in my purse ever since in a place where I can always see it. I kept it because I thought it would be a nice reminder to keep working towards my goals and wishes. To make them come true myself.

I didn't really know what my dearest wish was. I hadn't really thought.

Thinking now, I suppose I should have known. There was one thing I always wished for. You know, when you blow out your birthday candles, or when you see a shooting star, or even the first star you see at night kind of traditions. Those kind of silly, childish, pipe dream kind of wish makings.

Every single time I wished for the same thing.

It came true. It was never something that hard work would achieve. A whole lot of luck, definitely, but hard work no.

I wouldn't say that I'm a believer in wishes. I am however a believer that you'll be granted rewards for having the strength to get through tough times. For standing up and fighting instead of backing down. Every time I've been ready to give in there has been something that has pushed me to continue. And there has always been rewards awaiting me at the end of it. Even something as small as getting the chance to see a wild fox playing in it's natural habit one evening.

Magical little moments captured like that have always been enough. However I got my big wish this time.

Now I need to find a new wish.

Muddy Paws

I love my dog.


He is my best furry friend.

As childish as it may seem, he was always the one I would go to when I needed to talk. I'd whisper my secrets to him in the dark and he'd look at me with his dark collie eyes as though he understood and sympathised with me. Maybe on some level he does understand when I do this. He's always been sensitive of people's emotions.

One of my favourite things about dogs, not just mine, every dog... Is the sound of paws thumping on dry earth.

When you get a pack of dogs chasing one another about in a field that hasn't seen rain for weeks and the ground is dusty and hollow sounding... They're going full pelt running around egging each other on and darting around.

It is, quite probably, my favourite sound in the whole world.

Spine Cracker

Books.
They are such powerful and magical creations. They hold such majesty and beauty between their pages. I honestly don't understand how people cannot enjoy reading a book.

I've always been a reader. I've always relished the adventures that they had in store for me. I was read to as a child. A few chapters before bed. Rowling, Tolkien, Adams, Snicket. And as soon as I was old enough for my parents to allow me into town on my own with my own money I would spend it on new books. New adventures. And I would embark on these alone.

I was a spine cracker. I would hurry the first few chapters of a new book especially so that I could put the first crack in the spine of my paperbacks.

But a few years ago, I was stood surveying my shelves. I was originally contemplating my next read, but the more I looked the more I noticed how ruffled my books were beginning to look.
I realised that, while cracking the spine was making them look dog eared and well loved, I was also damaging them.

I wanted my books to look well loved, but I didn't want to ruin them. I could always patch them up, get them rebound in the future... But why should I make myself have to do that? I could just take better care of them and make them last a whole lot longer while still loving them to death.

Do we not treat those that we love with care and dedication? "So why not the same with my books?" I thought.

I haven't cracked a spine since. Not on purpose anyway. There have been a couple of accidents, but for the most part my books have remained beautifully unsullied.

I'm not a spine cracker any more. And, though I thought I would, I don't miss it at all.