DOOR.....creaaakkeeee.

  Indeed...

 I want to tell you all a story, that I trust you will find most delightful and I'm sorry to say, have only ever audibly told people before: never written.

  So let's see how madly this will effect you....

   There was a town by the sea, to the South of Australia. This town was grey. It's people, its buildings and their hearts were grey.

  This, it seemed, was not only due to the rain and storm clouds that never left the town, but a darkness that had filled their hearts so much that they'd forgotten it was there.

    Because of this endless gloom, the towns' people would day after day continue their monotonous business work yet failed to birth new ideas.

  Inspiration was lost, and many of the tools and technology that we find commonplace in our own lives, were never created in the town.

  It was on one of these grey and listless days that a boy was wandering along a grey street, the rain lightly pounding his shoulders. He walked with his head down, as most people did in the town, and as he walked, he heard something. He stopped suddenly, because it was very unusual to hear anything out of the ordinary, and he had.

 He heard the sound again and he knew, that he had to follow it. He walked without hesitation and began to follow the sound. He travelled through alleyways, down ladders, up ladders, across bridges and through the cracks between buildings until he arrived at...a door.

  

   The sound grew louder so he opened the door. He followed the sound down a dirt tunnel until he arrived at a spiral staircase travelling down. 

   He clattered down the staircase until he arrived in a dimly lit tunnel with wider walls.

  He followed the sound down the tunnel until he came to a darker space in which sat...a well.

   He walked up to the well and looked down into the black water that filled it. For a moment all that he saw was darkness.

  Then, in the very depths, a light stirred. It grew and grew in the water until it burst out into the room. It surrounded the boy and in that moment he realized that this was the reason he had been born, and had been walking along that grey road and been the one to hear the sound.

  That this light, was the cure for their gloom and the never ceasing grey rain.

 The light took the boy and together they swept into the town, filling it until the clouds' broke, the rain ceased and a warm breeze blew the endless cold of that town away. Sunlight crept in and the people threw down their brief cases and ties and turned their faces to the sky, smiles leaping to life,

  Inspiration was re-born and their darkness was forgotten.

 Come on! Where would life be without the simple, straightforward happy ending stories? I feel there's a place for both the ones that have meaning and the ones that don't. Though really in some ways they have just as much meaning if not more.

   

  I have also decided that if I ever did open my own creative writing college, and scouts were sent out (haha, that rhymed), they would test people applying to join the college would be asked to tell a story, out loud and improvised. 

  I love improvisation. :D

  It is also my desire that tomorrow I am going to do something constructive with my time and make a chicken, leek and feta pie. Oh yeah....

  You know I could seriously just travel to America just so I can eat at an American diner. :] I also would love to go to Rio for their three day parties and to America again for their Spring break. So cool.

 Well I've bothered you enough, and will leave you with the fourth part of my poem.

Much Love,

Miss CLScarlett xx

Story of a Wolf Part IV:

Me.

Then one-day his cries they ceased, his wounds began to heal – he allowed them to be...

He finally took love, when before he wanted death and my love became even more...

For the first time I could see him, no longer did he twitch and waver...

Instead I saw his beauty, his inky midnight fur and those eyes – the colour of gold, that poured forth from shadows...

Alas, as I had said, it was my choice to take him in – what he did not know could not hurt him, no more would he sorrow...

On a fiery night of glistening sparks, I released him upon the moors, and with a roar he thundered forward – and the night it seemed to sing a tune...

All except me, who finally fell, 

not just from missing him, 

but from all the turmoil...scars lying under my skin...

He didn't know that the night he let himself start breathing, I stopped...

But then, as I lay in the darkness I had created, I heard a sound – a sound that paled all else...

From the starry sky he came,

Brilliance bursting from between the world...

He swept down and gathered me up, and at once I was in his grasp...

He breathed upon me life, and a warm everlasting hope,

until finally, I could breath on my own.

      Pstt! You see? The old girl didn't have it in her to keep confronting that darkness. I know you, dear readers would have preferred that Scarlett keep the fight and darkness of the poem longer, yet no she goes and spoils it with a, gasp, happy ending! She never does have it in her...I must say.

  Regards,

Mr. White and S.