waffles

"Blueberry waffles are so delicious." I eagerly took another bite and poured more syrup. There was nothing like a stack of waffles to greet you in the morning.


"You know what's even better? Blueberry pancakes." He cut into a stack of three pancakes while looking at my waffles. "Your breakfast looks too decorative. Food is to eat, not to make into art."


I shrugged. That's his opinion, even though it's wrong. "Yeah well, your pancakes look like you sat on them. They're so flat and squished." I smiled at him all the while thinking about eating something that someone sat on. Ew, gross.


He laughed, but it didn't seem very genuine. "They're not squished! Besides, your waffles look like someone punched squares all over them, and that's weird."


I put down my fork. "That's the design, stupid. Waffles look like that!" I glared at him. "Your pancakes look like sandpaper cut out in shapes of circles!"


He pushed back from the table angrily and stood up, his nose flaring. "You liar! You just like squares, you square!"


I stood up too, breathing heavily. "At least I'm not trying to eat a shape that I'm going to turn into!"


He sputtered, pointing at me. Then he calmed down and folded his arms, looking down at me with anger in his eyes. "You know what I really think?" He leaned closer and chuckled darkly. "I think waffles suck. They taste bad."


I gasped and pushed him away. "You take that back!"


"Make me!"


My eyes narrowed. Oh, I will.

stale

The raisin is a proud one

He has dignity and grace

He's articulative and smart

And finds nobility in his place

Until a young prune rolls by

As slowly as a snail

He looks at the proud raisin and asks,

"Hey, have you gone stale?"

The young and innocent

The old and stale

loafers

"Kelly, I'm not going to tell you again! Go and put on your loafers. We have to get to school!" I couldn't find the bread that I bought a few days ago, so I just grabbed some cereal bars for breakfast. "I'm serious, Kelly! Come out!"


Kelly ran out into the hallway and threw something hard and crunchy down. "I'm ready!" she said triumphantly.

"... Very funny."

I hope it's raining.

top hat

Have I told you about this top hat? No? It's more than what you think. It's got powers... No, really, it does.


My father gave it to me for my eighth birthday. I had a dance recital the next day, so I was too nervous to celebrate with cake or anything that required me holding something. You know how kids build things up in their minds? Well, in my mind the dance recital was like giving a speech to run for class president. I knew other kids were going to be up there with me, but it didn't matter.


My father noticed I couldn't stop running to the restroom and that I hadn't touched any of my birthday presents. What's wrong, he asked.


I'm going to trip and fall tomorrow, I told him. I knew I would because something always goes wrong. I'm going to forget the steps and hit the person on my left, and then I'm going to embarrass myself and the whole class because I can't dance.


My father took my hand and led me to the garage. He opened one of the storage cabinets and took from the very top a black top hat.


Don't tell anyone, he said, but this hat's more than a hat. This hat makes you powerful. It will help you dance.


I didn't really believe him at first, but then I held it in my hands and immediately I felt a warm sensation in my fingers. The hat was pulsing a beat through me that overrode the erratic one of my heart, and suddenly I felt calmer.


We ate cake and opened presents that day. I went to bed with the top hat in hand and held it close to my chest, sleeping with it like how babies sleep with toys. When I woke up the next day, the hat was still in my hands protecting me.


I was the best one at the recital. I wore the hat despite my dance teacher's protestations, and as the music began I felt the hat move me as if it had control over my legs. I was on time, dancing to the beat, and my legs were graceful and on point. You don't understand, this hat danced for me. My father said for him, the hat -


"Okay, geez, I'll take it already!"


The teenager stuffed five dollars in my hand and snatched the dusty old top hat. "I was just wondering how old it was," he grumbled as he walked away.


Oh well, at least I made five dollars.

pine nut

The pine tree looked down on his fellow shrubs and plants. "I am the greatest among you!" he roared to them. "I am the tallest, the strongest, and the most attractive here. You will obey me!"

A small bush shook angrily, scaring a nearby squirrel. "You're also the craziest!" he squealed. "You will get chopped down before any of us!"

The pine tree moved its long branches gloatingly. "You sad, old bush, you're just jealous. You wish you could grow taller, but you only get fatter!" The pine tree shook excitedly. "One day I'll become so powerful, I'll turn into a human!"

"But until then, you'll only get peed on by the dogs!" screamed a weed. His friends snickered and danced in the wind.

"They're right, you're a nut! You're just crazy!" said the old bush.

Just then a boy walked by carrying a brown paper bag. "I love pine nuts!" he said, throwing something in the air and catching it with his mouth. "I could eat them all day!"

The bush and the weeds laughed uproariously while the pine tree shivered in fright.

Primrose

A little girl and her father sat on a quiet hill in the dark night. They were looking at the city beneath them and marveled at how small the lights looked.

"What do you want for your birthday?" the father asked her.

The little girl looked up at the stars and wished they could be shinier. She pointed her finger up at one particularly bright star and smiled wistfully.

"You want a star?"

It was twinkling at her, winking and smiling and laughing and beckoning her to come. The girl turned away to look at her father and nodded.

He was grinning at her and leaned back on his elbows. "You want to go there? You want to leave this hill and run to the star?"

The girl giggled, but she shook her head. Gently, she reached out towards the winking star and tried to close it into her palm. But when she opened her hand, there was nothing there and the star was still winking at her.

Her father laughed. "You want to touch it?"

He got up and walked away, his steps softly dying away in the silence. The little girl tried to wink back at the star, but she couldn't.

Her father came back and sat down. "Did you know some stars live in flowers? Give me your hand," he said. He placed a flower in her palm and she smiled.

Now she could touch the star.

poodle

If I had a poodle
I think I would call it Paul
He would be big and white
And he would come when I call


If Paul was my poodle
Then he would play with me
Catch or tag or maybe baseball
Soccer and ultimate frisbee


If Paul was strong enough
He would let me ride on his back
I can be the cowboy and he's my horse
Faster than a lightning crack


If Paul gets tired though
Then we can just lie under a tree
He can sleep on the grass
And I can on his tummy


And when Paul gets hungry
I promise I'll buy him meat
I can toss it high into the air
And to eat he'd jump off his feet


If Paul and I got bored one day
And we wanted to travel around
We can camp in the forest together
And be secret agents, moving without sound


If Paul got old and tired though
I would help him get to places
He can be the cowboy and I'm his horse
And we would still win races


If that was a real dog
It would be the best poodle ever
Paul and I would be best friends
Forever and ever and ever