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The Man in the Watch Tower

There once was a very old man who cared deeply for a forest. He knew every creature that scampered across the forest floor. He knew every squirrel by name and knew the family tales of the wolves back to the day their packs split. While he never involved himself in their quarrels, for he loved them all the same, he always looked out for them and ensured none ever came to any unnecessary harm. The man had a host of passenger pigeons who carried messages to the animals to call each creature to the aid of its kin.  When The Man was young he would climb down the long ladder and sit with the creatures. They would offer tributes to him in thanks for his watchful eye, for there was not a creature in the forest who had not benefited from the service of The Man. In his old age, however, The Man could no longer make the long journey down from his tower. The passenger pigeons would bring his tributes to him and The Man would simply watch. As the creatures saw less of him his tributes dwindled,...
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Dragon to Dearest

Signs and symbols can't convey the feelings flaming behind bars, when this cage turns to a furnace perhaps I'll share this flame of ours. If one day I break free you will hear my tortured cries, your new knights will flee at the flame of my sigh. My cry for love mistaken for rage, sends me back into my cage. So treat me like a wild beast slay me for your victory, run me through the streets of Greece use my wings to sail the sea. Sulking on my pile of bronze reminds me of your chestnut hair, never was a fan of gold plus I couldn't find it anywhere. If one day I break free you'll hear my cries, your new knights will flee at the flame of my sigh. My cry for love mistaken for rage, sends me back into my cage. Princess won't you send for me just call and I'll appear till then I'll guard your castle gate and dodge your iron spears Maybe I'm a monstrous thing but you have seen my gentle side I hope that you find love ag...
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Joseline

Walking down a road in my home town I hear a voice. I turn to look and my eyes notice for the first time a banyon tree the size of a sky scraper. I hear the voice again it. Faintly it registers as the voice of my love beckoning me but I am entranced by the tree. How could I have never noticed it before. I walk to the base and begin to climb the branches. Perhaps my love is among them. But I wasn’t really listening. As I climb higher and higher I begin to hear other voices. Frantically I search the branches to find her voice. In my frenzy I slip and my ankle is caught in the crook of a branch. I’m afraid to struggle, in fear of loosing my foot and plummeting to my death. I look down slowly. At the base of the tree, on the other side of the street stands my love. Her back is turned to me and away she walks.
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Anthology Locale part 1

***Note to reader- this anthology was collected by Peter Resig and published posthumously by Half Empty Bookshelf*** Anthology Locale Introduction & C_01+02 My name is Peter Resig. I am a private investigator and I have accumulated a series of cases over the last few months that have piqued my interest. I do not propose any hypothesis for my findings. I merely wish to provide a reservoir of information should anyone come looking for answers. I am planning to release these documents after my death as I am under contract until then. I received my first two odd cases on the same day in the same house. A husband and wife were found dead with no apparent cause of death unless you count the head being on backward. Allow me to revise my previous statement, "With no apparent cause of the head being altered in any way". The scene was clean. Not a trace of blood. Without getting too into the gory immaculacy I will move on to the more interesting part. Each was fo...
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Faders

When HE looked down on the earth HE had created HE saw that while it was good, some had faded. Some of the humans were too afraid to interact with the others, other humans tried but were cast out by the majority. Somehow each one had ended up alone. "It is not good for man to be alone," HE said. He took pity on the lonely and gathered them in HIS arms. In pairs of two, HE placed the faders on a ship. Each ship was different and took a coordinated team to balance. Captain Goldberg stood atop a ladder peering through a hole in the ceiling. Just another day on the east wind he said to Mrs. Goldberg. Mr. and Mrs. Goldberg had been faders for a year and a half now. Together they managed one of HIS ships. The Family was no ordinary ship, in fact, it didn't really look like much of a ship at all. Learning to fly it was quite the trick. The Family was wind-powered but had no sail. Instead, the wind was caught in a kite flown by Mr. Goldberg. The rest of the ship was tethe...
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Jack of Hearts

It's a beautiful crowd up at 7:30 on a Saturday. The Crane Cafe was filled with a steady hum of good morning greetings and small talk over cups of coffee and hot cocoa. The last of the working crowd had since headed off to begin their daily labors so these customers were "early birds by choice". The young and motived mingled with the old and experienced. Wisdom was shared, Stories were told and the humdrum of the Crane Cafe turned into a joyous atmosphere for this moment once a week, but this week the cafe had a special guest. Jack Walters wore the traditional attire of his trade, a navy suit with a dash of orange lining the collar. He walked with an aura of confidence as his mother held the door for him. Jack was a 7-year-old card magician on a mission to wow the world. He got himself a chocolate milk and found a corner booth for his mother and himself. Sporting a milk mustache and a clever pair of emerald eyes Jack began to study the crowd. He knew that half of a g...
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A Morning's Anthem

Jeremy heard the song and awoke as if snapped out of a trance. He bolted out the door,  leaving his day's clothes still folded at the foot of his bed. Not that it mattered, it had been weeks since he had spoken to anyone, and even so, he was too old to care. The half-naked old man made his way down the slopes and eased himself onto the ledge. Jeremy was a small man and so easily wedged himself between the crevice that divided the cliffs face. Once harnessed he slowly worked his way down and set himself gently onto the outcropping. This place was an oasis; just out of reach of ground predators, and far enough away from hawk rock to allow the birds some peace of mind. Starlings are common birds especially here in Central Pennsylvania. They are also considered an invasive species. Despite this, Jeremy had a love for starlings. The fact that they are common could not take away the beautiful green and purple sheen that glints off their metallic black coat. Much of their be...
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