Fantasy Story
Dead leaves crinkled and crumbled beneath Penelope's feet as she trod thewell-worn path from the mulberry patch back towards the cottage. She couldfeel the chilled air seeping through the usually thick, warm suede of herhand-sewn moccasins, a sign that tonight would be cold enough for a fire.Basket in her gloved hand, Penelope rushed back home humming a tune, allthe while fantasizing about homemade, hot, spiced mead. It was one of thespecialties at the Dragon Treats Cafe, which Penelope and her husbandArbogast had owned and operated for a full one hundred and twenty-sixyears. This December they planned a huge party to celebrate the mulberryharvest: they had bushel upon bushel of the fruit from the forest.Mulberries made the best mead, thought Penelope: their tart flavor lentitself so well to the fermented brew, which when served hot could cure justabout anything. As Penelope approached the house the tart aroma of berriespierced through the cold late autumn air; it must have been that mulberrypie she put in the oven about an hour ago. For the party, Arbogast and Penelope were fervently working on recipesfor everything from mulberry mead to muffins to millet-mulberry cookies.
When the couple opened their eyes, they were back home. More than once she tripped on some piece ofpaper or item of furniture, cursing it as if it was listening. She looked intently into her husband's eyes;neither of them showed any fear. The aroma ofmulberries filled the air, reminding Penelope of the pie. "Buemble' Buemble!" Her cries grew louder and more frantic, asPenelope turned her head to and fro, her eyes searching high and low forany sign of her pet dragon and her husband of two hundred years. As her ears adjusted to the chamber's eerie whitenoise, Penelope could just make out some voices in the distance. Theground shook like a thousand earthquakes and Arbo flew into her, knockingher over. The coupleare also adept magicians. She gestured to hand the ring over to thegreamer on Arbo's right but just as the greedy greamer reached out,Penelope slipped it back onto her finger and uttered an incantation. "Coming, darling!" shouted Penelope, as she heaved the heavy basketsof berries onto the floor. Medieval feel, but this is a timelesstale, not constrained by our typical calendar references. Gold with an amethyst bead inthe center, the ring felt alive, as if blood coursed through its band. Penelope pocketed the ring and hurried through the side door towardBuemble's kennel. The monotone voice shockedPenelope, who gasped so loudly the torches fluttered.
Common topics in this essay:
Buemble' Buemble,
Whatever Arbo,
II Penelope,
Arbogast Penelope,
Cafe Penelope,
,
Buemble Shoving,
Arbo' Penelope,
Orientation Setting,
Dragon Treats,
grendel's ring,
buemble's kennel,
arbogast found,
arbogast penelope,
lemon trees,
dragon treats,
cold air,
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Acceptance Essays
