Once upon a time there was a young woman named Sophie. She didn't consider her exterior as very pretty for she had crooked teeth, thin and oily hair, chubby cheeks, scars on her face, a flat chest, muscular arms, thick-skinned fingers, giant feet and short, hairy legs. In addition to those aesthetic features she couldn't help farting all the while which kept both friends and enemies at a distance. It just so happened that she realized there was nothing she could do to change her appearance thus did she decide to become sophisticated. At first, she had to teach herself to read. And once she had acquired the skill of reading she read some Tolstoy who taught her the skill of patience, after all was he a man of many words. Through the works of Austen Sophie learned what it meant to be an accomplished woman. Not only reading books seemed to be of importance but also being able to read music. So she learned to read sheet music and to play the piano. She also learned to play se...

Once upon a time there was a sailor named Flynn who said this much: When I was a young boy I wanted to sail around the world That's the life for me, living on the sea Spirit of a sailor, circumnavigates the globe The lust of a pioneer, will acknowledge no frontier I remember you by, thunderclap in the sky Lightning flash, tempers flare, 'round the horn if you dare I just spent six months in a leaky boat Lucky just to keep afloat Aotearoa, rugged individual Glisten like a pearl, at the bottom of the world The tyranny of distance, didn't stop the cavalier So why should it stop me, I'll conquer and stay free Ah c'mon all you lads, let's forget and forgive There's a world to explore, tales to tell back on shore I just spent six months in a leaky boat Six months in a leaky boat Ship-wrecked love can be cruel Don't be fooled by her kind There's a wind in my sails Will protect and prevail I just spen...

Someone once told Ayako that music can influence ones mood and create internal experiences such as sadness or joy without any preceding events or reasons for those emotions but the music itself. She listened to a Tracy Chapaman CD while outside the rain was pouring and heavyhearted is how she felt. " If he wants the chances that you took from him and nothing that you own Then there be no place to run to There'll be no place to run And if he finds himself to be A reflection of us all Bang bang bang He'll shoot us down " Was it solely the sad song that made her heart weigh a thousand pounds? Or was it because of an unconscious sphere in her brain that became conscious that very moment when she got a vivid piece of memory of the very first time she heard that Tracy Chapman song several decades ago? Silly sadness overcame her when she thought of that one car ride half a century ago when Radio Nostalgia was playing on the old poor quality car...

Once upon a time there was Mr. Knowles. He was a deeply warm-hearted person who had acquired a vast amount of knowledge during the course of his life. Mr. Knowles was a man of age and wisdom but he had a hard time making new friends. Once he was queuing to a ticket booth. He wanted to get a ticket for a ballet he'd always wanted to see. There in front of him stood a tall man with broad shoulders and an angular face. The man started to speak to Mr. Knowles, telling him about his daughter that was going to be performing at that ballet and how proud he was of her. The angular faced man had a strong accent that Mr. Knowles recognized to be a Russian accent. Mr. Knowles had learned to hate the Russians all through his whole life. He thought of the words his father had told him:  If another war comes, it's them we must fight to hate them and fear them, to run and to hide. And accept it all bravely with god on our side. Mr. Knowles nodded silently to the words the Russian man sai...

When Ilse was young she and her father would in spring walk out on the fields to collect may bugs. Although they were all the same breed, Ilse and her father would distinguish may bugs into millers, bakers, chimney sweepers and kaisers. A miller would be a may bug with a strong and white fur that seemed lighter colored. The same description went for the baker. Then the chimney sweeper was a may bug without fur, so this particular may bug was a darker type. The kaiser was a very rare and unusual type of may bug: It had red-coloured wing covers which reminded of the purple coloured capes kaisers and kings used to be wearing in past times. The most valuable may bugs would surely be the kaisers, now as an adult Ilse remembered the appreciative feeling she had when she and her father caught a kaiser. It was an intriguing feeling as a child to experience the joys of finding a living sample of something as subtle as a kaiser. Hardly anything later in her life compared to that very fe...

Once there was an ornithologist named Frank. Frank had a neighbor called Frank who said: Birds talk to me, when I go down on my knees. Frank and Frank were conies, they often went out into the woods and marshlands to look at birds. Sometimes Frank would get a phone call from his other friend called Frank who'd tell him about a sight of one or another unusual species of birds that he sighted. After a phone call of such sort, Frank would immediately pack his bags and head to where Frank had sighted that bird. He knew everything about birds but was jealous that birds were talking to his neighbor Frank.  They didn't talk to Frank.

Once upon a time there was good ol' Bobby who said this much: "'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood When blackness was a virtue the road was full of mud I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form Come in, she said I'll give ya shelter from the storm And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm Come in, she said I'll give ya shelter from the storm Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved Everything up to that point had been left unresolved Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm Come in, she said I'll give ya shelter from the storm I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn Come in, she said I'll give ya shelter from the storm Sudd...