Penelope's Peculiarities Tale One, The Worm Turns

I met Worm from sheer frustration. After I inherited Granny's house, I needed cover. Smack dab in the middle of the bible belt with every housewife keeping an eye on me from their headquarters, the Jesus of Calvary Baptist church across the street. The Baptist had one stupid ass preacher named Norm. He came to the house to introduce himself. But I knew it was the wives all a twitter that I was out to steal their husbands that really brought him to my door. Why, though, didn't matter. Worm, I mean Norm, fit the bill.

"Good afternoon, Miss....huh, Now how should I call you Darlin'? I only saw your granny now and then. She didn't seem interested in going to a church meeting from what I gather. But I thought you might like to join our Sunday service."

The skinny, bald headed jerk resembled a worm and I'm sure had a dick about as big. "Call me Penelope, love. Come in, I hope you don't mind the ravens, they can be a bit protective. You're not afraid of little birds or girls are you Mr?"

"Norm Saggot the name, Miss Penelope." He had a grin that sliced his face in half. "And I have Jesus everywhere I go so I fear not."

"Well, good for you, Worm, I mean, Norm. That's it, Norm? Right? Oh, watch the bird shit too, they're ornery right now."

"Yes ma'am. Norm. Now, I brought the bible with me so we can say a prayer together. Would you like to pray with me Miss. Penelope?"

"I'll do you one better. Now you sit right here and I'll sit over there." I pointed him to a wooden chair for a child while I walked to the leather couch and sat in the middle with one leg stretched out and the other spread to show this jerk what damn good cunt looked like."

"Huh, Miss Penelope, I'm afraid,you're exposing yourself."

"Don't be afraid. Say, I thought you wanted to pray. Well, the chapel's open." I said with my middle finger pointing to my crotch.


"Miss Penelope what do you mean?"

"Honey, you ain't never going to have anything better than this in your whole fucking life, and I bet once you pop that pencil dick of yours in here, you'll go mad for more."

Worm squirmed, hot and bothered, I heard him give a high pitched moan before he tossed the good book on the ground and dove into my snatch like a miser looking for gold.

I let him busy himself for a while so I could tell the ravens to stop shitting on his bible, I had business to attend. "Honey, get your tongue outta there before you wear it out."

"Ah, Miss Penelope, that was the finest dish of poontang I ever did eat. And, well, I don't know what to say but I just gotta have some more."

"I know you do, sweetheart but you're married and I'm not. How ya gonna fix that unless you divorce your dear wife."

"That bitch. Why she ain't nothin' to me but a dried up prune. I'll get divorce Miss Penelope, first thing."

"Well, when you do, let me know. And don't take too long. Now you get your good book, might like to wipe the bird shit off when you're outside, and get busy if you want some more of my Southern hospitality."

It didn't take pencil dick a week before he was back telling me he had his wife arrested for stealing from the church. And showed me one big  ass diamond ring he bought with the money she stole.

"I'll have the divorce papers in a week, I know the judge and he don't take to women stealing from God. So, I was hopin' you'd let me in the chapel."

"When you get the papers Worm, come on over and I'll let you sharpen what you call a dick in my grinder."

"Oh, lordy, I thought I could just have a taste for now, you know, since you took the ring and all."

"What kind of Christian are you? Get the papers and shake down that congregation of yours because I'll need money for a proper wedding."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll get on it right now."

Worm was the stupidest human I ever met but a week later, with his wife serving twenty years for grand theft, he had the divorce papers in hand and a bone in his pants.

"Well honey pie, here's the papers and we can get married anytime you'd like."

"Midnight sound good to you? And what about the money?"

"Right here, got a grand."

"A grand what? Piano?"

"No honey, I got a thousand dollars. All for you!"

"Shit. How am I suppose to go to Vegas with a thou?"

"Vegas?"

"You don't think I'm marrying you here do you?" Get that Dodge you call a car and pick me up for the airport. And get mommy to come up with five grand or the whole thing is off."

I thought it would be over then, but damn if Worm didn't show up with the five grand and off we went to Vegas, him whining the whole way about getting some action which was pissing me off. When we got to Vegas, it was night. We went to the Belliagio where I used one of his cards for a suite overlooking the water show. I had enough time for a couple of bottles of champagne before midnight's marriage hosted by a dear friend of mine.

Worm, of course was hopping around the room like it was a frying pan. He wanted some action, and with his whining and all, I had enough.

"Look, you're going to have to wait until, AFTER we are married. I'm not a slut like your ex-wife. So get a couple of bottles of good French champagne brought up while I let you massage my feet. Which reminds me, fill the bath while I make a phone call and don't you fucking touch that chicken neck of yours. If I see any fluids of yours around you'll be licking the whole fucking bathroom clean. Got it Worm?"

"Am I gonna get some more poontang Miss. Penolpe?"

"Shit, that's all you think about isn't it. That's what happens when men get into my magic box. You'll get some in good time. But you are one big fucking, fuck-up that's really grating my nerves so you better get going.
You do not want to piss me off."

Worm trotted off whimpering while I called my friend Tallulah to get a party going. She can put on one bang up wedding.

"Hey, Tallulah, we got here. Is everything ready?"

"Shit yeah, but give me a few more of those credit cards from your soon to be hubby.  I've maxed out the ones you gave me earlier."

"Sure, let me look," I grabbed his wallet and emptied it, then I called him. "Hey Worm!"

The squirmy little thing came running thinking I had a treat. "Look asshole, I know your mother gave you a credit card in case you got into trouble. Well you're in trouble." I spread my legs apart and showed the magic box. You want some? Get that fucking card, NOW."

The fucker had it in his nasty shoe, with a tissue, I picked it up and read the numbers to Tallulah. When finished I tossed it in the trash and told Worm he better come up with some more cash. It was going to be one hell of a wedding. My friend called around and the whole gang was coming. They were flying in from the Orient, Europe and South America. Tallulah rented a mansion, and a good band. Worm looked worried with a sweat growing on his forehead and his eyeballs kinda of popping out.

Once my bath was ready I let Worm hold my champagne glass while I climbed in the tub. Once in and and comfy with my champagne, Worm got busy with my feet. What a perv the guy was too. I knew the fucker came in his pants twice while massaging my bunions, but let it go, thinking maybe he would settle down. When I was done he was still all hot to trot though, and his color wasn't good. "Better not barf on the floor or you'll be sitting out on the balcony."

"Miss Penelope?"

"What?"

"Who's payin' for all this?

He looked ridiculous, the chicken neck in his shorts was sticking out and about to drip yet he wanted to know finances. "Aren't we from the South? And what kind of Southern Baptist Preacher Man doesn't pay his bills? Look, do what I tell you and it will be fine. Stop worrying or you'll kill yourself before you get another taste." With that I took my finger and rubbed it across my clit. Then wet his lips with my moist finger. I couldn't help it. I do, after all, have a soft spot.

Worm started to cry and damn if that spigot of his didn't shoot again. The whole front of his pants was wet from it. That's what being nice to someone gets you.

"Look asshole, you're disgusting and you stink with spunk. I do something nice for you and what do you do?"

"I'm so sorry Miss Penelope. I can't help myself."

"You won't have any left once we get married. What you going to do then, shoot blanks?"

"I'll save some up I promise. I'll try to control myself better. I will."

"Shit Worm, better have them bring up some diapers for you to wear. I don't want that shit of yours gooing up the place. That reminds me, We are having a costume ball after the wedding and I want you to wear a custom made costume I picked out for you. You don't want to hurt my feelings do you, especially after I treated you so well.

"I'll wear anything you want. Can I have another taste."

"Don't be greedy now. Isn't greed a sin? Shame on you, and you being a Baptist minister." I needed a few more bottles of champagne to help get ready for the party so I told Worm, "Get on the phone and get some credit card numbers from your parishioners. Tell them you're in Sin City saving souls. If they can believe that shit you preach, they'll believe anything."

"Oh, Miss Penelope, I can get in a lot of trouble doing that."

"Well aren't you a minister and aren't you in Vegas and aren't we having a big bash after the wedding? Trust me, all hell will be there. So what are you lying about? Now get some money or I'll call the whole thing off and take you back to Bum Fuck Georgia myself.

"Oh, I'll get on it right away, that's a good idea Miss Penelope saving souls. Now how about a little taste. Just the tip of your nail scented with your heavenly petals."

"You want more shit from my snatch. That right asshole?"

"Yes, ma'am, it is."

"Now listen real good. You want anything from me you'll have to work your fucking ass off. I don't see any money, I don't see champagne and I don't see you in diapers. Whats your problem?"

"No problem. I'm on it."

There was a knock at the front door and I had Worm answer it. Packages by the dozens carried by deliveries from everywhere came through. I needed a drink before trying on all the costumes.  Fortunately, one guy had the champagne so I grabbed that first, pulled the cork out myself because Worm was busy with a diaper and the phone, and downed the fucker.

It was a great fucking party. I mean everyone was there. And my friends laughed their asses off when Worm and I walked down the aisle. I had to get a bit snippy when he objected to his outfit. But I really needed a pink poodle by my side and all my friends have pets. Mine is just a bit peculiar is all. But it was the only thing that would go with my costume by Prada and it was a smash.

After the wedding, done really nice with the bats released at the end. And to see Worm dance around on his leash screaming "Jesus save me, Jesus save me," when the lesbian minister opened her fat mouth and a spider walked out. That was the best.

But it all took a toll on Worm, he didn't look good now. A few days of partying and he looked about finished, all sickly looking which is why I made him keep the pink poodle outfit on, it gave him some color. Then, when we got back to Georgia, and stepped out of the car in front of his church with the congregation mad as hell, and the sheriff there with handcuffs, and Worm still in his pink poodle outfit, it all came to a tragic end.

It looked like a heart attack to me, Worm dressed up in his cute outfit with his tongue sticking out and a diaper full of goo from all the dick juices he made while he flapped about grabbing his chest. Then suddenly he gave out a wheeze and stiffed out dead as the congregation and sheriff, with their mouths dropped to the ground,  watched as Worm's last breath  belched for more poontang. Dang if he wasn't a horny cuss.

I handed his leash to the sheriff and asked a couple of good ole country boys if they would be kind enough to help a widow with her packages. I had a shitload of stuff from Vegas to unpack and a new husband to look for.

The Watchers

A long, long time ago in a forest of deep woods lived many of the Faye. One, named Peppermill, made his home at the feet of a great oak tree in the middle of the forest. His front door consisted of a polka dot red toadstool that when opened led to chambers among the roots of the oak. He kept his home tidy where the rooms meandered between the great roots of the tree.

Peppermill stored what ever curious thing he came across on his walks among the trees. He preferred calling trees, professors for Peppermill learned a great deal from the old ones.  His closest, and dearest friend was the very oak where he made his home.

Peppermill felt called, as all the Faye do at some point, to spend his life with this particular tree when he was much younger and ventured about the forest. As the years past, Peppermill found that when he placed his hands on the sides of the roots that made the walls of his chambers, the great oak could talk with him. There he would sit with a pot of nectar tea and marshmallow cake, his thistle chair made comfortable with flower petal cushions so that he could place his hand on a knob of root. That is how he talked with his friend, the great oak, by holding the root knob the tree could convey to Peppermill his thoughts, and Peppermill could send his thoughts back to the great tree.

The great oak told Peppermill not only about their forest but events all over the world. For the tree's roots went very deep and connected to the other trees who were also connected to others. It was a network of information that went all over the world, and trees live long lives giving them knowledge no other living thing could ever fathom.

One day as Peppermill sat in his chair holding the knob of root, he asked the tree what was their purpose on earth? Was it to bind the soil or hold the knowledge of all  things? The great tree answered that it was those things and more, but trees call each other The Watchers, for they found their main purpose was to warn life of impending danger.

"Are we in danger?" Asked Peppermill.

"Not now, but remember time brings change and though we can formulate possibilities for the future, we never know for sure."

Peppermill took morning and evening walks. He did this every day because the Faye enjoy that balance of dark and light when shadow battles light. The Faye are fascinated by many things. What seems trash, the Faye find fascinating, and every sunrise and sunset, Peppermill found something to take home. The chambers he used to store all the things he found grew and grew among the roots of the Great Oak.

One day, Peppermill found something so big and so fascinating he needed the help of friends to bring it home. They beat their wings and used magic spells to lift the object and Peppermill, as well as his friends, wondered how he would get it home. But Peppermill wondered too, what the Great Oak would have to say about the strange and heavy object.

Peppermill and his friends decided it would be best to rest the object in front of hs home. It was just too large and heavy, even with magic to get it inside, and so they placed it near one of the thick roots that held the Great Oak.

After thanking his friends and everyone again commenting on the strange object, and for Peppermill to tell them what the Great Oak had to say, they left for Peppermill to talk with his friend.

Exhausted, Peppermill brewed a pot of nectar tea and cut off a slice of  marshmallow cake, placing them on a tray that he brought to the chair where the root knob of the Great Oak protruded. He ate half his cake and had two cups of tea before he settled in to talk with his ancient friend by holding the root's knob.

"Did you see the object near the front door?" Asked Peppermill.

"Yes, I remember when it landed in the forest many years past."

"What is it?"

"It is doom."

"Doom?" Peppermill was worried, "Should we have brought it here?"

"It doesn't matter where it rests for it is not of this earth."

"Where is it from?"

"From the stars where all things come from."

"Why then is it dangerous?"

"It is a piece from an asteroid that struck the earth long ago. Asteroids, if big enough, could tear the earth apart, nothing would remain of what we know of our planet. And in some point in time, that will happen."

Peppermill was distressed, an end to their earth and everything on it, but the wise old tree calmed Peppermill.

"Live for today. For tomorrow is not here and yesterday is gone."

From that day forward, while men fret about the future or the past, all other creatures took the wise old tree's advice and live for today, for that is all any of us really have.   

Season Of The Witch

She travels on a flurry of snowflakes with the north wind that takes her where she wants. Winter Witch has a cold heart, never letting in kindness, love or generosity. She is mean to the bone, her desire is to take life from any unfortunate left in her grasp. The small bunny or fawn will quickly die should she come upon them lost in the forest. So too will children who wander away from home on a cold winter night.

The only thing that stands in her way of making the world cold and dark  is Spring Witch that follows her and finds lost children and stray animals that need the breath of life. It has always infuriated the winter witch and her animosity toward the witch of spring grew and grew.

One day Winter Witch came across Autumn Witch as the year's end neared. She told her of what the witch of spring did to her, how she saved some victims of hers from death and how terrible of Spring Witch to take away her schadenfreude.


Autumn Witch was sad to hear this for she cooled and readied life for change after Summer Witch made things grow their tallest and best in the long days of her season. The witch of fall knew things must stay balanced. The witch of spring, because of her heart to make all things well and new, overstepped her place in the seasons.

"Let Spring Witch be for now," said Autumn Witch. "She is always young and impetuous. Let her learn from what will follow if she continues this way." The witch of fall was the wisest of all four, for she knew what the seasons brought.

"Very  well," said Winter Witch. Still, it bothered her for she so enjoyed taking life in her silent coldness, watching the warmth leave the victim until it is as cold as she. "I'll bide my time, until then," she said to herself as she flew off into a storm.

Spring Witch came earlier each winter until spring grew longer. She found more animals to rescue until the grass could no longer grow fast enough to feed everyone and streams trickled out water from all the life now so abundant on the earth.

Summer Witch felt beleaguered by the abundance of life searching for food and shelter, as fast as summer's witch could provide, life on earth devoured it. When Autumn Witch came, there was scant to do for most of the foliage was destroyed, depriving her of painting hillsides and skies with brilliant hues. The witch of fall sought out Winter Witch and found her in an early snow storm.

"Spring Witch as caused an imbalance in nature I'm afraid," she said to Winter Witch as she caused a swirl of snow to cover a bare holly in front of them.

"I will temper her spirit. So that she knows not to over extend her season." Winter Witch then flew off in a flurry of dark thunderous clouds.

As the days grew shorter and the nights longer, Winter Witch flew over the land creating mounds of snow that turned to ice. The storms surged and grew stronger each day. The ice grew and grew into hills and then mountains of hard, cold snow. When Spring Witch arrived, the ice was so thick she couldn't penetrate it to save a soul.

The ice became glaciers that stood through spring's warmth, summer's heat and autumn's wind.  When the following winter came more ice and snow fell until the land was unrecognizable, the animals changed, and mankind only survived in caves, if they could find one.

Winter Witch was thrilled. She now had all the seasons to herself, but then realized, she was as impertinent as Spring Witch. She too had caused an unbalance of nature. She then tempered her wrath and sulked back to the northern land to sleep and allow nature to once again right itself.

As time passed, the witches of the seasons knew each as important in their own right to keep nature in harmony. Life prospered and the land grew abundant until one day when mankind filled his heart with greed.

Humans wanted more and more for themselves. And not to thrive but to dominant and hoard risking all other life in their greed for more and more. Winter Witch saw this and talked among the others, concerned if mankind was allowed to continue, what would happen to Mother Earth?

And because of man's greed for Mother Earth's wealth, a warming occurred from the factories and machines that created unlimited consumption for mankind. The toxic gasses heated the air and created great storms that brought floods and drought, but still mankind wanted more and more for themselves. The warming of Mother Earth concerned the seasons witches.

Winter Witch tried to cover the land in cold to cool the earth but had to leave when the Spring Witch came to renew and heal as much as she could. But the damage of men continued until Summer Witch came with heat that dried and caked the hard soil to try and prevent men from contaminating it further. It did no good and the Autumn Witch, the wisest of all the witches, grew worried. Would mankind kill all life in their quest for more and more? They might! Thought Autumn Witch.

Autumn Witch went to the king of the fairies asking what could be done? This could not go on to the peril of Mother Earth. The fairy king called a council to decide the best course of action. When they returned with a remedy, it was not good."We who know the Craft will survive, it is up to mankind to do good by Mother Earth or perish." The king of all fairies told Autumn Witch.

So the witch came back and told the others. Now, the witches of the seasons do what they can to keep nature in balance to this day. They have seen the seasons come and go long before humankind arrived and will continue should mankind fail to see their error. They have left it to us to come to our senses and find balance with our Mother Earth.

But will we?

The Witch of New Year

Now is when the witch of New Year looks for a fresh victim. Someone who lost their keys, or can't find their cell phone. A hapless soul caught on the very moment when a year has passed. She takes their time and from then on, they are a year off. They write checks for the past year, can't remember the day of the week and everything seems topsy-turvey to them for the whole year.

The witch of New Year has taken a year from them and she is now a year younger, never aging and she is very, very old, yet looks as sensuous as she did on her eighteenth birthday centuries upon centuries ago.

She walks among the party-goers, always quite fashionable, eyes turn her way, but she is on the hunt and looks at them in a different way. The person who pats their pocket to see if the keys and wallet are there. Someone who has picked up another's drink. In that moment of forgetfulness, just before they reach for drink or wallet, she takes their year exactly at the stroke of midnight. Now she needs to find the perfect victim for it was New Year's Eve.

A man of fine stature boldly steps in front of her as she walks down the street. He sees a great beauty, perfect for his party in upper Manhattan, a jewel to add to the mix. He tells her he couldn't help notice that she was a very beautiful woman and would she like to see New York from a penthouse full of famous people. He offers her his limo, the driver waiting patiently.

The witch of New Year sees a great opportunity and gladly accepts, offering the man her hand. He escorts her to the open cab of the limo where champagne and caviar wait. The witch enters the soft luxuries of wealth as comfortable to it as a cat curled by the fire.

They chat, he inquires of people he knows to see if they might have a common connection. She tells him she maintains an apartment here but lives, secluded, in Eastern Europe. His blue eyes twinkle when she smiles at him and tells him she is looking forward to a wonderful party, full of people.

He confirms there would be quite a crowd, for his luxury penthouse is the top two floors of the building. She sees he is quite handsome and must attract the same.

The limo pulls up to the curb of a fine building where the doorman opens the cab and offers his gloved hand to the witch. She is radiant, and the doorman feels what a privilege it is to assist such a beautiful woman. Her gown flows like raven black gossamer that sparkles with light here and there. She emits a sensuality that attracts everyone.

One of the great bands of the world plays and sings while people dance in a sea of writhing bodies as the witch of time gazes about. She glances at the diamonds on her wrist where her watch is precisely set. She has time and decides to dance with the one who brought her.

They are eye popping to watch. The beauty of both enhanced by the dance made them magical. People stopped to watch them in admiration as they moved to the rhythm of the music.  When it was over, he escorted her off the dance floor where many young men waited for a chance. But she wasn't interested, it was time to look about.

Leaving the gentlemen to yearn, she walked to the refreshments for a glass of champagne. It was there, she found her victim, fumbling for her eye glasses in a small silver purse. The prey was attractive but plain, like vanilla ice cream is to French vanilla. She obviously couldn't find them, for they hung around her neck from a glittering cord.

Perfect. The witch thought and walked to her.

"Hi, are you looking for these?" the witch asked with a smile as she touched the cord that held the glasses.

"Oh, thanks. That's why I put them on the chain!" The woman says with a laugh.  I'd lose my head too if it wasn't attached. My name's Dot."

The witch smiles and extends her hand. Mine is Zelda. I'm glad to meet someone else who loses things. Sometimes I think I could lose a whole year." The witch giggles with Dot at the little joke. "What are you drinking? Zelda asks.

"Oh, I can't find it and anyway, I thought I'd have a cola instead."

"Let me get it for you." The witch turns and quickly comes back with a glass of soda and places it near her champagne.

"That didn't take long,"

"It doesn't does it, I don't know why but when they see me, they come right up and ask what I'd like. Lovely party isn't it?"

"It is, I don't know what happened to my date. He's here somewhere and it's almost twelve. Are you excited about the new year?" Dot asks.

"Always, I've never missed a New Years party in my life."

"Oh, how wonderful. You must lead an interesting life, you look so young."

"Young looks but wisdom, my dear, of the ages. Look it's almost midnight, the band is about to play.

The large disk begins to descend. The countdown begins as the crowd shouts out each last second. And just before the very last second, Zelda asks Dot, "Where are you're glasses?"

Dot for one moment registers panic and grabs the chain around her neck only to find it's not there, she had put them in her purse earlier. Right then Zelda grabs her by the hand and holds her. The crowd roars, fireworks go off and everybody is screaming, Happy New Year!

"You're purse, don't you think?" Zelda says to Dot who  now has a very confused stare because she isn't sure of anything. She isn't sure where she is, or where her glasses are, or what year it is.

Zelda walks away and wanders through the crowd looking younger than ever. 

The Story Of Santa Claus And The Elves Of Frost.

A very long time ago, on the shore's of Greece, lived a very special man who's name was Nicholas. The fishing village loved him because he made people smile. He remembered everyone's birthday or if someone was in great need he left a gift. He'd place the gift in the villager's sock near where they slept. In the morning the recipient would be sure to find it, but not know who left it. That made the gift--a true gift.

Nicholas was special in other ways as well. He helped all creatures, not just his own kind. Because his heart was set true and his love for all so great, the elves of Frost showed themselves to Nicholas.

They became great friends and the elves told Nicholas of the many children all over the world that needed gifts, especially someone to come to them with only kindness in their heart even if they received nothing but to let them know they were loved. That someone, the elves of Frost said, was Nicholas.

But Nicholas would have to pay a great price to help so many children, the elves of Frost told him, Nicholas would have to go to their magic kingdom at the very top of the world. For there, they could work without being disturbed, and with the help of the elves, visit children all over the world.

Nicholas agreed but when the elves took him to their frosty palace it was much colder than his seaside village in Greece, he thought he would freeze. So the elves made him a very special garment weaved from the dreams of children. Now Nicholas would know what each child's heart held, both good and bad. The elves took the color red from a volcano to keep him warm and the color white from snow for trim so he didn't get too hot. His boots were sturdy shiny black from coal to keep him upright no matter where he went, and a matching hat to go with his shirt and pants. It made Nicholas look even more jolly than he already was.

Nicholas' life was very happy for now he could go to children everywhere and give them something even if it was only the gift of hope, for some children that was what they wanted most.

The children of the world remember getting a gift from someone they never met. A kindness when most needed, or a toy to cheer them but they never saw who until one fateful day. 

On a cold winter night in a little village not that far from where Nicholas grew up a child was born. The child's parents had fled their homeland because of war. They had no place to sleep, save a manger shared by farm animals to rest from the cold winter night. The animals gathered around the manger to shelter the child from the cold and keep the infant warm. Nicholas came that snowy night on a shining star and gave the child the gift of peace so that the family could return to their homeland.

  The child opened his eyes when he received his gift and saw Nicholas with his rosy cheeks smiling down at him. Then the child gave Nicholas a gift, that all children around the world would remember the man who bestowed love to all the children on that very special winter night. And to this day, children leave cookies and milk for the man christened Saint Nicholas who is so loved that children of all faiths and every land call him Santa Claus. 

The Imp Under The Bed

Tim woke from a noise he heard. It wasn't a squeak, it wasn't a creak, but a sound that came from under the bed. He pulled back the covers and climbed down to peer under the bed, but saw only a few wayward toys and a sock.

"Did the sock talk?" He asked himself as he reached for the items. "Maybe Johnny horse did or cowboy Bob."

But when he looked at them on top of his bed they said nor did nothing.Then the noise came again, a kind of squeak but not the kind a mouse makes. No, he thought, that was a hinge that made the noise.

It couldn't be a hinge because there was no door or gate under the bed, so how could a squeaky hinge make a noise right beneath him? Tim jumped off and looked again. He ran his hand over the floorboards, and save for a few dust bunnies, didn't feel a hinge.

He decided to lay down on the floor next to his bed and wait for the noise. He waited and waited, but not a squeak, not even a peep came from under the bed.

When his eyes grew weary and the floor too cold, Tim grabbed his blanket and pillow to settle in and wait on the floor for the sound. "Even if it takes all night," he said to himself.

The pillow was soft and warm, and though the floor was wood, the blanket made it a bit more comfortable. Tim looked very carefully at the floor. For now the full moon cast its rays through the pane window and lit the wood floor in an icy light.

A branch scratched the house outside and then came the creak. Tim opened his eyes to see the strangest creature he ever saw. Small with big ears, and hair all over, the creature helped himself up from an opening in the floor.

That's strange, Tim thought, I'm sure that wasn't there before. "

"Hello," said Tim. "How did you do that?"

The creature brushed off his shoulders and arms. "Do what?"

"Open a door in my bedroom floor."

"Oh, that. Well, it looks like your bedroom floor from where you are but it's not a floor at all to me."

"It's not?" Tim asked.

"No, not at all. I'm an Imp you know. We Imps go by a whole different order. You see, I'm tunneling at the moment."

Tim looked for a tunnel in the room but couldn't find one. "What tunnel?"

The Imp looked at Tim in the most astonishing way. He then opened the hatch again and said while pointing with his finger. "What's that if it's not a tunnel."

Tim had to admit that with the hatch opened there was a tunnel from where the Imp came. "I always thought the floor was the ceiling of our living room."

"Well it is to you but not to me. It's all very simple, you see I tunnel and when I came up from below I entered here. But, you see, it's only temporary, for I'll tunnel through the ceiling over there," he said pointing to a corner of the ceiling, "And I'll be in Calerdon."

"You mean on the other side of the ceiling there is a place, it's not the roof?" Tim was very confused.

"Calerdon is not a place, it's the most beautiful of cities of all Plexideria.

"I've never heard of it. I've been to Baltimore but I haven't heard of either of those other places."

"You don't get out much do you?" The Imp said in a pitiful way.

"Yes I do, weather permitting of course. Mostly to to the playground or school. But my friend, Jack and I have explored the river. As far as we are allowed of course."

"Well that's what I mean. You're limited."

"Limited?"

"Yes, you see for you, there is a ceiling and a floor."

"Oh." Tim wasn't sure what the Imp meant, because of course the ceiling and floor have always been there. The tunnel and hatch, now that was new.

"Its alright," said the Imp, "You're not that limited. Here we are talking about tunneling, ceilings and floors. Now there are a lot of humans that can't."

"Why's that?"

"They weren't keen enough to search like you. Something got your curiosity and you investigated it until you found about it. You heard the hinge didn't you."

"Yes, I did." Tim brightened up and smiled.

"There was a glitch when I mounted the hatch and I meant to oil that hinge and didn't, my bad."

"Oh, I'm glad to meet you and hear about tunnels in the ceiling and floor."

"That's good. Usually it's not the case. Some have quite a fright." The Imp made a face and stuck out his tongue, making Tim laugh. "Yes, well I'm off. Better get back in bed before dawn comes. Don't you think?"

The Imp threw a rope ladder up in the air and it caught on the ceiling. Then the Imp grabbed the ladder and his round hairy body seemed to glide up the rope ladder to the ceiling. There he pulled out a hatch from the bag he had with him and slapped it on the ceiling. He then smoothed the hatch before he pulled out an oil can for a squirt of lubricant on the two hinges.

Tim stood next to his bed, his mouth gaped as he watched the Imp open the hatch. Then the Imp helped himself up, turned and waved at Tim before he climbed and stood in a place that should have been the roof but was a beautiful sunny day in a strange forest. The Imp then grabbed the rope ladder and pulled it up, putting it in his bag. When the hatch closed, it disappeared and only the ceiling was left just like it was before.

Tim looked at the clock on his desk before he climbed back in bed. He couldn't wait to tell his friends what happened and wondered if he should mention any of this to his parents. They never mentioned Imps living in the house.

In the morning at breakfast, Tim told his mom and dad that he met an Imp who was tunneling from the floor to the ceiling in his room and did they know about Imps?

When his mother gave him his stack of blueberry pancakes, she said, "Dear, I hope you're not bringing creatures from the river into your room, like the frog you and Jack brought home one day."

"No, he was already here. He came out of the floor and tunneled to the ceiling."

"You know your mom doesn't want you to bring wild things in the house. Now you let it go first thing when you go out today. Alright son?"

Tim was about to argue but decided instead to agree with his dad. "I will."

"Promise?" asked his father.

"I promise."

Later in the day, when Tim met up with Jack, he asked him if he ever seen an Imp. Jack wanted to know what one looked like and where did he see him. But when Tim told about the Imp coming out from under the bed and climbing up to the ceiling, opening it up, Jack looked bewildered.

"Maybe you had a bad dream." Jack said.

But Tim didn't think it was bad, he wasn't even frightened by it and remembered what the Imp said about not everyone being able to see these things because they lacked curiosity.

That day, as Tim and Jack explored the river, Tim began to notice more and more things, for his curiosity gave him a keen eye. A leaf fluttered and moved and when he looked carefully, he saw a small faerie lifting the leaf to blink at him and smile. Jack saw more and more creatures from the magic kingdoms he read about in books and they were as real as anything else.

He asked Jack if he saw anything unusual, especially when a water sprite sitting on the back of a catfish came near the river's edge, but Jack only saw the catfish albeit a very big catfish. That's when the whole world opened to Tim. He now could see things nobody he knew could and wondered what it all meant. 

Putter Patter and the Cockoo

 There once lived an elf named Putter Patter. He lived in the Black forest of Germany and was a very happy elf. He spent most days warming his hands and feet as he sat with a pint of ale, smoking his pipe at a cozy forest inn. If anyone in the village needed something repaired they would look for Putter Patter at the inn. The villager would tell the elf what was broken, or sometimes they would ask if he could make something for them, such as a cabinet or chair. Putter Patter would look at their need and either fix or make what they needed.

This was a fine arrangement for the village, who kept the elf happy with tobacco and ale while he toasted his toes at the inn's hearth. And the inn enjoyed having the elf as a guest. When wayfarers stayed, he delighted in a chat about roads and paths needed for destinations. Elves, as everyone knows, live a very long time and know every inch of the forest and its glens.

As time went by the village grew more prosperous, and people wanted something to tell the time. They needed clocks, so the town council went to Putter Patter to see if he had an idea of a clock they could use. For clocks at that time were very, very rare. Putter Patter placed his chin in his hand and puffed his pipe in thought. The fire crackled and popped, as he pondered the subject. The council stood waiting for his ideas with an occasional good soul handing the elf another pint of ale or tobacco for his pipe.

While Putter Patter steeped deep in thought, a cuckoo bird called outside the window. "Cuc-koo, Cuc-koo," the bird sang out.

Suddenly the elf stood up and snapped his fingers. "I've got it!" He cheered.

Off he ran to his workshop made within the trunk of a great oak, opened the door and went right to his tools and wood. He sawed and hammered, hammered and sawed. Putter Patter rang bells, blew whistles and sounded horns, but he just wasn't satisfied with what he heard. He tinkered and whittled, he sawed and hammered some more but for him it didn't sound quite the right tone for a forest clock, it needed the soul of the forest to sound just right for him.

While he sat to ponder what to do,  a cuckoo bird sang outside the window, "Cuck-koo, Cuc-koo." Putter Patter jumped up, grabbed one of his clocks, and ran out the door toward the cuckoo bird in the limb of his oak tree.

The elf held up his clock and said, "Mr. Cuckoo. Dear fellow, would you put your voice in my box?"

The cuckoo looked at the clock in the elf's hand and shook his head no.

"And why not?" Asked the elf for he thought his clocks had a fine quality to them.

"What kind of home is that for a bird? it looks like a clock.

Putter Patter looked at his creation. It had a bright blue front with pillars at the corners to hold up the flat roof. The dial was bright brass that twinkled in the light. Then he thought about what the cuckoo bird said.

"Mr. Cuckoo, would you be kind enough to come back tomorrow? I have an idea of what you might like."

"Very good," said the cuckoo.

Putter Patter looked about the forest where he had lived all his life. For the first time, he looked closely at each leaf and twig of the great oak, he looked at the branches and everything around him with the keenest of eye. The elf then went back  inside and began to work. His wood chisel grooved and his file smoothed, he cut and hammered, hammered and cut all through the day and night.

In the morning, as dawn warmed the day, Putter Patter held the new clock up to the window and smiled.  He went to his stove and heated water for tea to wait until the cuckoo called. With his mug of tea, he went to his rocker, sat down and lit his pipe.

After his second cup, he heard the cuckoo. With his new clock in hand, Putter Patter walked outside to greet the bird.

"Well, what do you think?" Asked Putter Patter.

The bird flew down for a closer look. The clock had carved oak leaves and branches with acorns, and a carved wood cuckoo at the top. The face and hands were made with different color woods. The roof slanted to keep the rain and snow off. It was a very handsome clock indeed. But something wasn't quite right.

"How would I sing?" Asked the cuckoo.

"Ah!, let me show you."

Putter Patter put his clock on a hook and set the pine cone weights to hang. Then he turned the carved wood hands until they went to the hour. The clock banged with a gong and a door over the face opened. Out popped a beautiful carved cuckoo.

"Oh, that's so much better. And you captured my real look. Let me fly inside."

With that, Putter Patter opened the back of the clock to let the cuckoo in and held it up for the bird's inspection. In a quick flight, the cuckoo landed inside and asked the elf to shut him in and turn the clock to the hour.

Putter Patter did what was asked and when the little door over the dial opened the tiny cuckoo came out and sang, "Cuc-koo," for each hour.

The elf opened the back again to let the bird out. The cuckoo flew high into the branches and sang as loud as he could to draw all the creatures of the forest to see what the elf made.

Deer and squirrels, owls, foxes and bears all came to the see what the elf had done. When all the creatures of the forest settled about, Putter Patter put the clock to work for the noon hour.

When the hands of the cock hit noon, the cuckoo clock banged and the door opened. The carving of the cuckoo came out and sung, "Cuckoo," for each hour.

All the creatures loved this thing called a clock, though they didn't understand why humans needed such a thing. Creatures only need the sun and stars to tell you when it's time to eat or sleep. But they congratulated the elf on his new invention for humans anyway. The elf beamed with the praise, for it was one thing to fix a squeaky door and sit by the fire with a pint, but to hear the forest creatures give him credit was best of all.

Putter Patter made many, many cuckoo clocks. He carved the images of all the creatures that came that day on his cuckoo clocks after that. And to this day, cuckoo clocks look like the forest they came from, otherwise, the cuckoo won't sing.