Elizabee Writes

  The Information Seeker “Hello?” the man calls out in the seemingly empty home. “Ah hello!” a cheery old man, wearing a long red robe says, appearing out of nowhere. “My name is Warren and I-” “Ohhhh wonderful! Please go on,” the old claps with a large grin on his face. “...Um well, I need your help. You are Lyden aren’t you?” “Yes,” the old man bows, “Pleasure to meet you.” “I have a problem and I need some information. I hear you are a man with great knowledge of many things. I was hoping you’d be able to help me.” “That all depends on what you can give me in return for this information. As helpful as my knowledge is, I still require a form of payment.” “I’m sorry, but my family is poor and my wife is very-” Lyden cuts him off, “No, not money. Information. That is why I am so wise. I tell people what they want to know, and in return gain more knowledge. It is one big circle of information you see, everyone wants to know what others know. I am simply the place whe

  Color Changers With a push of a button they could wear whatever color they wanted. Their full body suits could take on whatever color they touched. They no longer had a desire for style, texture, or design, color was all they strived for. Some colors were considered rare, others easier to find. Color of their bodysuits could be changed as many times as they desired. Say they saw a color throughout their day that they fell in love with. Just by touching it, they could turn their bodysuit that color. Some of them had one color they wore all the time, content with what they had and not wanting to change. Others would change multiple times a day, whenever they felt like it. Maybe a change of mood or just finding a pretty color would inspire them to change their bodysuit. There were so many colors, from bright and flashy, soft pastels, straight black or white and everything in between. They loved their colors and loved wearing them even more. No one cared what color another wore

  Five Once there was a time when everything was fine, my soul happy and at home. Twice I was fooled into thinking such things, how stupid I was, such innocence in me. Three times I wondered if it’d ever go back to a time when things were good. Four days it took me to finally realize, I was horribly misunderstood. Five…five years of misery all on my own, rotting in the world I never had shown. The End 11/27/22

  The Girl in the Horse Painting “Oh man have you seen that one painting, the one with the horse, on that blue background.” “Yeah! Oh my gosh that painting is so good. I’m actually looking to get a print of it to hang in my house.” “That would look so good in your living room, or anywhere really.” “I know, it’s such a good painting it could go anywhere really and make the room better!” “Have you ever noticed the girl in the background? I never had until someone pointed it out to me and then I couldn’t stop looking at her.” “There is a girl in the background?” “I know right. I was shocked too, but yeah, there is. When you get that print you’ll have to look for her.” “I guess I will. Wow, that's amazing. I’ve looked at that painting a thousand times and never even noticed the girl. You think the artist intended it to be that way?” “He must have. I’m sure he did it for this very reason, for people to be astounded by the fact they never saw the girl.” “Goes to show

  Finding a Fairy Once upon a time a young prince walked through the woods, just outside his castle. He was searching for fairies. The tales of their beauty and power of their magic always fascinated the prince. He had dreamed of being one of them, living in a small flowery home in the woods and flying wherever he pleased. Ever since he came of age, his parents tried to find him a bride but he refused, his heart was set on a fairy. He didn’t know which one, but he’d know when he saw her. On his stroll through the woods, he came across a patch of vibrant pink flowers. He looked through them, hoping a fairy might be hiding among them. Nothing, he saw nothing, other than the flowers. He stood back up and continued his fairy hunting journey.  Little did he know, there had been a small blue fairy hiding amongst the flowers. She was watching him closely, curious as to what he was doing, but staying out of his sight so he would never find her. The little fairy continued to follow the

  Go Golf After an intense game of go golf, a variant of go fish but played instead with golf balls, Ally was livid at Isaiah. Every time she would ask for something, the next turn he would end up taking it right back. Elsie was simply a bystander of the trash talking to come. “Go Tee with your Putter!” Ally screams, rolling her eyes at Isaiah. Isaiah gives his sister a confused look, “What does that even mean,” he responds, trying to hold back laughter. “I’m gonna take a driver to your golf ball down all eighteen holes,” she says, now also trying to remain serious. Elsie just sits there, a huge smile on her face, watching the hilarity unfold. “Have you ever played golf,” Isaiah asks through giggles. “Yeah, mini golf,” Ally responds confidently. “Got it.” “It doesn’t matter though. I’m still going to grab you by the nostrils and flip you upside down and hope that it rains!” “What?” Elsie says, full out laughing, “That isn’t even golf related!” “...On the golf course,”

  To Be Who You’re Not To be who you’re not, become someone else. To take on the form of someone you’re not, someone better than yourself. To jump into a role, a character perhaps, still you, just, different. To live in another place, one not your own. To be an inhabitant of that land, as similar or different as you desire. To be in a place you wish to be, a place that suits you for your every need. To live a life not your own, one formed by you. To control the world around you, making it a perfect paradise to live out your dreams. To simply exist in peace, no troubles or worries, just, be. The End 11/23/22

  Mykala “Mykala! Bring me a glass of water. I am thirsty,” her father shouts. After impatiently waiting for a few moments, no water is brought. “Mykala!” He receives no response. Begrudgingly he gets up and gets himself a glass of water. “Mykala! What are you doing? The pigs need fed!” She does not respond. “Mykala stop daydreaming and go feed our animals, that is your job!” After seeing no movement, he goes to grab the various scraps to throw in the pigs trough. “Must I do everything myself?” “Mykala! Light the candles, it is getting dark in this house.” The candles remain dark. “Do you want us tripping over everything we own girl? Why will you not listen to me?” he shouts. As he is lighting the candles his wife walks in the door. “Hello love, how was your day,” she asks in a comforting tone, rubbing her husband's back as he lights the last candle in the house. He says nothing, and only stares past the candle. The little flame illuminates a small portrait of a young girl.

  A Growing Heart “Awe her heart is growing, how sweet. All that room for love and compassion, oh how wonderful!” “Not…wond-wonderful.” “Oh look at that thing, it is growing so large and lovely. You should be excited!” “No, help, please.” “Help? Why are you asking for help? Why do you look so sad and in pain, your heart growing is a good thing!” … “Ooh listen, I can hear it beating! Oh that’s wonderful everyone can hear that beautiful heart of yours now!” “Plea-” “Oh…oh dear…I thought a growing heart would be good, but…maybe not. I’m so sorry.” The End 11/21/22

  Forgetfulness To forget is to misplace a memory. The memory seems to disappear, like it never even existed. It is so strange. At first a memory or a thought can be so solid and clear, so strong in our minds, and then somehow it just vanishes, as if we had never thought about it in the first place. Finding that memory again, remembering, brings such a revelation. A whole train of thought that had gone missing in action, all of a sudden returns. All the details of the memory, things you meant to do come flooded back out of seemingly nowhere. It can be frustrating, losing thoughts so fast. In one moment you can be thinking of something, and know everything about it, and then the next it is gone forever. The most you can do is try and retrace your mental steps and hope whatever you were thinking about returns. Even more infuriating is forgetting to do something you said you would do. At the time of promising to do something, you are so sure you will remember to do it. You have it p

  Ice (Part 3) Walking along a path, the young man makes his way into the woods. The whole curiosity is burning in him, wondering if the sword really works or not. “It can’t actually freeze things in time, that’s impossible!” he says out loud, pulling the sword from its sheath. He stares at it, then hovers his hand just above the blade. The cold still emanates from the sword and hits the young man's hand. “It must still be cold from the ice, and stayed that way in the sheath.” The young man’s confidence wavers, “No it can’t be enchanted, this is stupid.” He hesitates for a moment then, against the warning of the older man, grabs the blade. Immediately he is frozen, he cannot move. His mind screams to his hand, telling it to let go of the sword but it will not. He is stuck, forever. A few hours pass, and the young man sees a figure approaching in the distance. As it gets closer he sees it is the older man. The older man walks up to the younger man in his frozen state and s

  Ice (Part 2) The next day, the younger man returns to the shop. “Ah yes, your sword is ready, right over here,” the older man says, walking towards the metal bucket of water containing the young man's sword. The young man pulls the sword out from the partially frozen water, shaking off tiny chunks of ice. “So it’s enchanted now, right?” he questions, his skepticism returning. “Yes, the magic of the water now flows freely through your blade.” The young man looks at the sword for a moment before sheathing it. “Thank you,” he says, tossing a small leather pouch to the older man. “Much gratitude,” the older man says with a bow. “But before you go, I must give you one warning.” “And what might that be? That it may not work all the time?”   “No, quite the opposite in fact. You must never touch the blade yourself, or you will be frozen forever. The magic of the sword will hold you, and make it impossible for anyone to save you. You will be like a statue, stuck in place for

  Ice (Part 1) “Bring your sword here boy,” the older gentleman insists. “Alright now dip it here in the water.” “Will this damage my sword?” “No, no boy, this will make it all the more powerful. Nothing like a little magic to help a  Blade,” the man says, purposely sparking the younger man's interest.   “Magic, what kind of magic?” the young man asks skeptically. “Ice magic. The sword will need to sit here overnight so the water freezes. As the water becomes ice around the sword, the magic seeps into the metal itself.” “What does the magic do?” “Well it will freeze people of course. Whatever this sword touches will become frozen in time. But, once the blade no longer has contact, whatever was frozen will be able to move normally.” “That sounds really cool! But…will it really work? Is this really magic water, or are you some charlatan trying to make a pretty penny?” The older man becomes very serious, “On my life, I swear to you I am not lying. May this sword pierce my

  Dust Dust. Where does it come from? Like magic it forms on every surface. It can be brushed away, but it is never gone for long. Somehow the tiny particles always find their way back together, clumped on a desk or a shelf. Air can be cleaned along with a house, but dust will find a way. It is persistent, and never ending. It makes new things seem old by simply spreading itself thinly over them. Dust is so easy to clean, and yet the most burdensome. Why can it never just be gone? How does it form so fast? There are answers to these questions that make perfect sense, but as it quickly appears on everything we own, it still seems impossible. The End 11/16/22

  The Girl Who Believed She Could Fly Dot’s parents loved watching her as a baby, always flapping her arms up and down, like a baby bird trying to fly. As she began walking, her arms didn’t stop flapping. Sometimes it was to regain balance, but other times were just for fun. Throughout her childhood it happened less and less, but every once in a while Dot’s parents would still see her flapping her arms. Whenever she would do it, her eyes would be to the sky, the place she truly wanted to be. In her teen years Dot grew more self conscious of her attempts at flight, she knew others would think it was silly, even her parents, so she always made sure to try when she knew she was alone. No matter how embarrassed she was though, she would never stop trying, she knew deep down in her heart that one day it would work, one day she would fly. Adulthood could not take that belief from her. With the knowledge of how wind worked and how birds used it to fly, she would modify her flapping patt

  Listen and Learn “For the small small price of-” “No I don’t want it,” *Click* “By following this one easy step, you too can-” “No I can’t,” *Click* “Changing this one area of your life, can improve-” “No it won’t,” *Click* “Hey, buddy, maybe listen to what these people are saying!” “Huh?” *Click* “Yeah no, you aren’t getting rid of me. You can click that thing all you want, but I’ll still be here.” *Click*Click*Click* “Told ya it wouldn’t work. Now that I finally have your attention, let’s make your life better alright?” “Ok.” “Alright, good. Now I want you to click back through those channels, and don’t just listen to them, really think about ‘em, internalize them, and follow them. You got that?” “Yes.” “Alright, good. Don’t go trying to fool me though alright? I’ll still be here, watching. I’ll know if you try to skip ahead, or just ignore what these people have to say. Now go on, listen and learn my friend, listen and learn.” *Click* The End 11/14/22