Oops: a CATS- The musical fanfic!! Chapter ten plus epilogue
Chapter Ten
How Often
How often do the seasons pass?
How often do the leaves float by?
Do you ever wonder why?
How often do the years go?
How often does the snow fly?
How often do the breezes blow?
Do you ever wonder why?
How come everything must change?
Everything must take its place
Everyone must run the race
Everyone will see God face to face
Forever the years keep going
Forever the wind keeps blowing
Glory, glory, glory to my king
Glory, glory, glory to my Lord Everlasting
Don’t you think this life is strange?
The Tale of Ander Collins: Chapter Nine
“It’s about time you two showed up,” a voice from inside the cave snapped. A figure stepped from the rocky shadows and into the dimming light.
It was a girl; tall and slender, like a willow switch. Her hair was long and red-tinted, and her skin was flawless – like the fine pink porcelain used for state dinners back home. She wore a finely-tanned leather vest, trimmed with scarlet stitching around the bottom and arm-holes; and her tunic was deep green, made of good linen. Her boots were shaped to her legs and feet, tooled with vine motifs and dyed a dark brown.
The Poor Little Goat
Once lived a poor, little goat. His name was 'Dots'. He was abandoned by his mother when he was born. The poor, little goat had to live in the house for one whole week. He had to take a bottle of milk every few hours. Once he was finally strong enough, Dots could go outside. All he could think of was "Yes! Finally some goats to play wit!" But he was wrong. When he was inside the fence, two other angry mother goats, were staring him down. Before he could run off... "Baaaaa!" He was always rammed the same way. When he was a couple of months old, he was finished with a bottle...
Sea Eyes, Chapter Three, by Xotirra
Grant just stuck out his tongue at me. He must not understand how important it is for you to know who you are dealing with. Nevertheless, I cannot tell you of them, for the only one I know closely is Auntie. Never fear, he will tell you. And in the meantime, I will tell you of my adventures up to this point.
Another Princess Story Chapter 4
Jonathan laughed. He couldn’t help it. Yet his face grew more serious as he thought of the question that was burning on his mind.
“Why?”
Nicole stopped laughing.
“Why what?”
“Why on earth didn’t you tell me?”
“About wha-oh. That. I…”
“Obviously you don’t trust me.”
“No! It’s not that, I swear. I just…”
“I get it. You don’t have to explain.”
“No-Jonathan-please!”
“Just-go on. Leave me alone.”
A Horse
We took a peaceful ride,
Through the country-side.
Where no busy road,
Nor a highway is in sight.
So many cattle grazing,
Along the fence lines.
I see the goats and sheep,
Eating thorns and vines that creep.
And chickens running,
Around the yard so freely.
But a beauty in the pasture ahead,
Catches my eye. What can it be?
A horse of course.
It's mane and tail blowing softly.
And a perfect white star,
On it's sun-soaked, bay head.
Summer Days Are Here
Summer days are here:
Afternoons with hazy drear,
Vacation’s sweet release,
Escaping into peace.
My face is red, and oh my head, Evades not the languid torrid.
Feel the heat of the day, Receive humidity from the bay, Oh, for winter’s rain! My heart longs for the heat to wane…
The tread of unshod feet, Heats like burning peat, Incessant smog hangs low, Shadowing every lonely crow.
Haze hides sun and sky, Every day ends with a sigh: Air conditi’ning’s sweet relief, Thou, summer, please be brief!
My face is red, and oh my head, Evades not the languid torrid.
Feel the heat of the day, Receive humidity from the bay, Oh, for winter’s rain! My heart longs for the heat to wane…
The tread of unshod feet, Heats like burning peat, Incessant smog hangs low, Shadowing every lonely crow.
Haze hides sun and sky, Every day ends with a sigh: Air conditi’ning’s sweet relief, Thou, summer, please be brief!
Pink
My favorite color is Pink,
It helps my mind to think,
Light pink is peaceful,
Hot pink is funky and colorful,
Whatever the shade,
It's name is as soft as mink,
My favorite color is Pink.
The Scarred Goddess, Chapter 5
Pirates of long ago were a children’s tale, a sailor’s yarn of things that might never have happened. They captured ships, murdered the men, and ravaged the women. I wasn’t all that sure that the pirates Hurh had spoken of were any more real than the others long ago. I asked Mante whether or not he thought any of the pirates, old or new, were real.
“Most assuredly. My grandfather fought in the first wave of pirates. He was captured and killed.” He spoke bitterly. But after that, I no longer doubted the pirates with such certainty.
“Most assuredly. My grandfather fought in the first wave of pirates. He was captured and killed.” He spoke bitterly. But after that, I no longer doubted the pirates with such certainty.