Jimmy

I really like Rory’s Story Cubes.  I think they are great for getting ideas on paper, starting stories and more.

So below is a random story based on the following Rory’s Story Cubes.  Its not finished, I find it really easy to start stories, but not finish them.

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Rorys-2015-08-23-11-38-07Jimmy climbed the tree in the forest behind his house.

He had been in his friends and co-workers houses and yards over the years, but he liked his best.  Solely because a large forest existed just behind the edge of his house.

When he bought the house there had been a fence marking the edge of his property, but the first thing he did, before even setting up the living room or kitchen, was tearing down the fence blocking the forest.  He liked the view of nature unbound, and although his property didn’t extend into the woods, he considered it his woods.

This particular area of town was largely abandoned.  He had no neighbors to speak of, the houses on either side of his house had been abandoned long before he moved in.  His house had been a “fixer upper” in every sense of the word, and to a large degree he had fixed it up over the last two years.  He had replaced the lights, some wiring, torn down some walls, and shingled the roof.There was still flooring to be replaced, the basement in particular needed work, the walls showed that it had flooded years ago, but as a whole the house was livable.

What he liked about the forest, and this tree in particular was that it provided solitude he found no where else.  In his house he felt connected to everything.  Even when his phone, tv, computer, et. all were off, he still felt that connection.  Here in the woods, in this giant ancient tree, he was truly alone.

There was no cell service this far into the woods.  And no other humans had been out there in years as far as he could tell.  He felt like a burglar, a thief stealing this slice of isolation for himself.  But it was his space.  And despite being a grown man, he liked the idea of a place that was his.

When he first discovered this tree he decided it was enough of a landmark in the woods to make it a little supply center.  He put some plastic tubs out there with books, some water, snacks, flashlights and other odds and ends.  At first he worried other people may find his things, or that animals may get into it.  That worry slowly left him as he realized how isolated the woods really were.

Over the last two years he had slowly realized that no large animals came near the tree.  He occasionally saw all sorts of wildlife in the woods; squirrels, deer, birds of all kinds, and even foxes.  He knew further back in the woods was what he assumed was a bear den, but he had never seen any bears himself, just clues of their existence.  But around the tree, he saw not paw prints, no animals lived in the tree, birds seemed to avoid it, nothing to indicate that animals had ever been in the tree.

But it was more of what made the tree special.  What made it special and his.

Occasionally he had found things around the tree that concerned him.

A few months after he discovered the tree Jimmy came across a large mound of disturbed dirt – as if someone had just buried something.  He dug up the mound but found nothing buried there.  He eventually convinced himself it must have been an animal burying something, possible a bear, although he never had found any evidence of the bears coming close to the tree before, and did not find any paw prints, or footprints anywhere near the mound.

A year after finding the mound he found two strange objects.  A baseball, brand new with no scuff marks at all was next to the tree.  Again, he dismissed it as something an animal had found and carried into the woods – despite no telltale clues.

He liked reading while sitting up in the tree.  It was easy to climb, a lot of low strong branches.  So after putting the baseball in his tub he grabbed a book and started climbing the tree.  When he got a few feet into the tree he found a tentacle.  By the decay he guessed it had been there a few days and by the suckers he guessed it was octopus – but he wasn’t sure.

This was more confounding than the baseball in his mind.  But again, putting 2 and nothing together in his mind he assumed a bird had dropped it flying by.  The foliage was pretty thick here in the woods, but he had no doubt it had to have come from a bird flying above.

The time between these two events, the mound and finding the objects was so long, almost a full year, that Jimmy struggled to find any connection.  Between events he slowly became at ease again and assumed they were just fluke events.  That he was out in the woods isolated, away from anyone else.  And just like after the he found the mound, months passed without anything strange happening after finding the objects

Today, as he climbed the tree to find a branch to sit and read on, another one strange object was found. 10 feet up into the tree was present.  An honest to god birthday or Christmas present.  An orange box tied together with a powder blue ribbon.  The ribbon even came to a classic bow on the top.  It looked better than anything he had ever wrapped, and it looked like it had just been set in the tree that day.

The color was bright and vibrant, not faded like a present left in the woods for days.  Jimmy was confused and concerned.  He scanned the forest around the tree, but like both of the previous times strange things appeared nothing was disturbed.  There was nothing to indicate another human had been there. Nothing to indicate where the present came from at all.  But there it was, 10 feet high in the tree that Jimmy was certain only he had been in during the last two years.

He had conflicting emotions.  Part of him wanted to run.  Go back to his house, lock the doors and forget it ever happened.  Part of him wanted to call the police, swat, whatever you are supposed to do when you find a suspicious package.  And lastly part of him wanted to open this package, that it somehow was left there for him.  And man was he curious what was inside.

Curiosity of course won the day…..

 

 

A Story Not About A Sheep Name Shane

Rory’s Story Cubes Story II
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Some people say that sheep have special powers. How else can an animal live with so little excitement in their lives. Really think about it. What does a sheep do? Eat, sleep, and make a little noise. That’s it. Sheep have to be special. The exceptional dullness that occupies sheep’s daily lives allows them to focus all of their conscious thought upon breaking dimensional barriers. When they look like they are just grazing to you and I, they are in reality spending their vast intellect and abilities breaking into other dimensions with their thoughts alone.

Shane was one of those sheep. He was renown among all sheep as one of the greats. He know the secrets of the universe. He knew it wasn’t a full moon that was special. It was a waning gibbous that affected the Earth the greatest. He knew that it wasn’t the North or South Poles that were ley lines, it wasn’t even the equator or the Prime Meridian. It was a spot. Just a blip on the map in North Carolina. Not near in a city, but in a small suburban town. Shane belonged to a family called the Bilkens who just happened to own the property this blip fell on. And it was grazing on that spot on a daily basis that made Shane so special.

This story is not about Shane though. Sadly he died recently when a neighborhood boy threw a flashlight in a fit of rage that just happened to hit Shane in the leg causing a major fracture. This in turn got infected and he died a horrible death over the course of a few weeks. He passed away at four am on a Tuesday. The Bilkens were quite sad (especially the children, they knew with Shane gone they would have mow the lawn a lot more often).

If it makes you feel better about Shane’s death you can take solace in that a rainbow appears on that exact blip where he grazed every year on the anniversary of his death.

And the neighborhood boy that accidentally killed him?

He died years later while working at a flashlight factory when a friend jokingly slapped him on the back causing him to choke on his gum. The Scales of Justice are fair after all. It just takes time for them to even out.

This story however is about Smitty. He was a mouse. And like most mice he had wanderlust. He never could find a place to call home. This here…. Its the story of how Smitty found a home.

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I realize this more of the start of a story and not a whole story. But I’m very much ok with that.

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Fred and the Flower

I bought an for my phone that rolls dice. Each die has different picture on the side and you are supposed to write a story based on the pictures you roll.

So here is story 1.

Fred and the Flower

Once upon a time a man named Fred was sleeping near the town fountain. He awoke to find a stranger making a weird smile at him. This confused Fred. To be perfectly honest, Fred found strangers slightly scary, especially smirking ones.

When Fred turned to look in the fountain he saw his reflection. Aghast Fred found that he had a Flower coming out of his ear. Now Fred was not normally the kind of man to wear flowers as part of his attire, much less grow one out of his ear. He was a little distraught, and although he tugged with all his might the flower could not be plucked.

After much thought, Fred decided to keep the flower. Besides, its bright yellow petals were a nice distraction. Fred even considered writing a story about a man with a flower growing out of his ear. It sounded like a good children’s tale when he told it in his head. But then Fred remembered that bookmaking had been banned in his country for many years. The problem was the dreaded arrow-headed scarabs that had invaded a century before. They were a beautiful shiny blue cobalt color with dark arrow shaped horns and eyes so large that they looked like cute little anime characters. Sadly though, trees had been practically wiped out by the all consuming bark loving species.

Rumor had it that the town of ‘L’ in a neighboring country had skilled bookmakers. L was far to the west, across vast mountain tops. Everyone knew the scarabs hated the cold and wouldn’t cross frigid peaks. Trees would surely be abundant in L.

Fred made up his mind. He wanted to put his story into words for the whole world to read and the scarabs, however shiny and cute they were, had made that impossible. (Truth be told, they were quite the pests. They liked to stab people ever so slightly in the ankles with their arrow-shaped horns. Boots had come into fashion around the same time as the scarabs moved in.) He packed up his things, put on his hat (with a hole cut in the side for the flower to show) and started his long journey….

And here are the dice.

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