Evening on the Fish Pond
The fish pond lies embraced
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Issue: <span>September/October 2000</span>
The fish pond lies embraced
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The air was cool, and leaves had departed from their shaky branches. Early October had come. Ansadore, the old chestnut mare, was rolling in the browning grass. She snorted, rolled over, and stood up. Not to say standing up didn't take much effort, though. She was, indeed, very old and it took more than a mere push to rise to her feet. After the grunts of weariness, however, she did manage it and was standing on her sleek legs.
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I, Too, Sing America by Catherine Clinton; Houghton
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Sally walked slowly across the long stretch of brown sand, tripping over small pebbles blocking her path. She scurried down to the rocks, dirtyblond hair flying as she went. Casually, she brushed back her hair with a quick flick of her hand. She spied a blue blob among the rocks. She loved looking for long-lost tennis balls, Superballs and dog toys. She scampered hurriedly to the resting place of the blue blob. To her great disappointment, a Pepsi cup stuck out. She ignored it and darted between the rocks, peering between, in and around the rocks and crevices. Suddenly, a bright green ball caught her eye.
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Einstein: Visionary Scientist by John B. Severance;
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"Once upon a time—no, no, that's not right . . ." Laura chewed on her thumbnail and pouted. "Gosh, I just can't seem to get this right!" Finally, she threw down her pencil, crumpled up the paper and jammed it into the plastic trash can in the corner of her room. Smacking her forehead with a sweaty palm, Laura threw herself on her bed and punched her pillow. "How am I supposed to become the world's greatest novelist, let alone the winner of this writing contest, if I can't even start the dumb story?!" she questioned her tattered teddy bear, Henry.
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The farm looked old and dull, but in my thoughts everything, even the quiet farm, was eerie. I had the dream again; the same dream I had every full moon, the only dream I ever had. The gentle eyes of my mother looked down at me. All I could see were the soft, green eyes. I could feel the warmth and fear of my mother, fear that was for me.
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As I recall, it was early in the morning, around seven or eight, when I first arrived at summer camp. The beautiful summer breeze whisked through my nose, giving me a vague sense of freedom. How I had longed to leave school and have this feeling tingle my senses. This had marked my third year at summer camp, and I was ecstatic to meet my friends again.
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Murmurs and whispers buzzed through the darkened hall. No one had any idea why the elders had called a meet, but that did not hinder them from thinking up reasons. Some believed that it was merely a routine meeting to discuss the upcoming harvest celebration, though they could not explain why it was conducted in such secrecy. Others stoutly maintained that the worst had happened; someone outside the Arborus clan had learned the sacred healing-knowledge and they were called to meeting to discuss how to react to the threat.
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If I could choose to be any place in the world,
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