Fifteen Minutes of Scrawl

Carol knew she should really open her mail faster than she did. She usually let it pile up on her kitchen table until she really couldn't take it anymore. Most of the mail was junk and her recycling filled up quickly when she finally decided to sort through it all. She did online banking an online bill pay so there were never any nasty surprises. The last time she'd looked through the pile, it was late November. After scraping all of the spam and advertisements, she found that she had an orange envelope from her aunt. She confusedly got her letter opener and slit the envelope open. Out fell a Charlie Brown Halloween card. Carol smiled, she had always loved Charlie Brown ever since she was little. She opened the card and a read her aunt's note: Dear Carol, I saw this card and remembered how much you loved Charlie Brown. You probably don't remember, but I was the one who first showed you Charlie Brown. I know we need to catch up, so I just wanted to drop you a line....

Sandy had always liked to dig around her backyard. She had long ago fallen in love with movies about archaeologists and paleontologists. She read and reread articles about people finding old bits of history or mysterious dinosaur bones in their own yards. She hoped one day to discover something buried in the dirt of her family home. She had been doing this since she was little. Her parents joked that she had been playing in dirt since they'd first put her down in a sandbox. Now, at the ripe old age of 12, her playing was a bit more sophisticated. Her dad had given her a metal detector for her birthday and her mom had given her the shovel and sifter she needed to really get her work done. Luckily her parents were never big gardeners, so they didn't mind that Sandy dug up chunk after chunk of their yard. They smiled to each other and were glad their daughter was not only playing outside but trying to be a scientist. Sandy had never found anything incredible. She had found som...

The island's graveyard sits atop one of the rolling hills. It looks out onto the sea in a peaceful spot a little aside the road. The sounds of the waves, of the sea birds, and of the wind is all you'll hear. Many generations have been laid to rest in this peaceful hill, finding eternal peace in the quiet. Yet something lay beneath the dead, something time had tried to forget, something the earth had tried to hide. Nearly a thousand years ago, a small stone church had stood upon this hill, taking the quiet outlook onto the sea as a holy sign of refuge. The community cherished it, went dutifully, and helped with its upkeep, it was their house of worship after all. But then, one day, the harbingers came. Scores and scores of them landed on the church, creating a thatched roof of deep black feathers. None could get them to move. The priests led the community in prayer, asking them to leave, but they wouldn't move. Holy water was thrown upon them, but they wouldn't mov...

The black birds flocked to the craggy rocks, scrabbling for purchase. Once they found spots that they could grip with their small talons, they froze and waited. They were harbingers and they had to be sure their  message was seen. The harbingers didn't even know if anyone still understood their omens, but they could only hope that they did. The greater their number, the greater problem that was on its way. One harbinger meant an individual misfortune. Sadly, this often meant an untimely death. When a harbinger had that message, they had to perch for a long time, because they had to be sure ill-fated person or one of their closest loved ones saw them. Two harbingers meant a household of misfortune. Harm would befall them all directly and it's painful tendrils would snake out into the community. While the omen was darker, the harbingers were glad for the company on their perch. Warning unsuspecting people of doom wasn't an appealing or rewarding task. You may go unnoticed...

Herman heaved in a breath and let it blow out through his lips, making a noise as they vibrated together as he stared out to sea. He was hitched to a small carriage-like cart, waiting by the docks for his owner to pick up a few tourists and take them up to the rusted shipwreck. It was quite a sight, Magnus knew, he had dragged the cart up there many times, his hooves clopping along the roads and sometimes splashing in small puddles. What his owner didn't know, what no one knew, was that he had been on that ship. He remembers the storm overtaking them, remembers the water rushing in, remembers the desperate cries from his friends. That was all decades ago, but he didn't think he'd ever forget. That storm had changed his life. When he had been blown over into the ice cold, choppy ocean, he was shocked to find himself quickly buoyed. He felt a warm, soft mass cradling him, calming him, making sure he didn't drown. He twisted his head and it took a moment for his eyes t...

How seven of them had ever managed to cram in for a photo on this bench was beyond Cecilia, yet she held the crumpled proof in her hand. There the seven of them sat or crouched or stood, smiling or making a goofy face at the kind passerby who'd agreed to take their photo. It had been about sixty years since they'd taken that photo. The seven of them, Cecilia, her then-boyfriend (later husband) Jake, his best friend Josh, Cecilia's best friend Penelope, Penelope's then-girlfriend (later wife) Allison, Penlope's older sister (later Josh's wife) Natalie, and Josh's younger brother Arthur, had taken a trip abroad together. They'd all been in their twenties and it seemed like the perfect time to spend money a little recklessly and live a little more adventurously. They had come to this island and, after missing their ferry back, they had cemented their places in each other's lives. They had wandered from inn to inn trying to find a space, but no one h...

"Come on, kids, it'll be fun," Fred said to his two kids, Peter and Sally. "But Daaad, why would we want to go on this safari when we could go to Fota?" whined Peter. "That one has animals from all over." "But we're here for the authentic Irish experience," said Fred proudly. He rather liked his idea of going on this new authentic Irish safari that a local had set up, but it was also true that it was just cheaper than taking a day trip to Fota from where they were staying. Tina, Fred's wife, tried to back him up, "There will be cool animals at this safari too. Like the red deer-" "Are those the ones with the really big antlers?" asked Sally, perking up. "Well," Tina looked apologetically at Fred, wishing she had picked a different animal, "no, that kind of deer is extinct." Sally looked rather disappointed, she had seen pictures of those deer when she was doing research before their ...