Schroedinger’s Cat I hate that damn box. Perhaps hate is too strong a word, my kind is above that sort of ugly feeling. But still, there it is. I spend most afternoons running away from the doctor, and that damnable box. It goes something like this: the doctor comes into the room, where I’m more often than not lying in that lovely warm patch on the carpet near the window. He looks right at me, and puts the box down on the floor. I see it and run. He chases me. I run some more. He sighs, goes ...

The Secret of My Success “Mr. Smith, your next appointment is here.” Bill only had time to glance at his watch and straighten his hair before the door opened and two strangers entered. The one with the camera started silently setting up bits and pieces of equipment, while the other, a young woman with curly blonde hair and a big grin sat down opposite him. “Good afternoon Mr. Smith, thank you for agreeing to this interview. Our readers will be delighted to learn more about you.” “I’m sorry, y...

The next couple of weeks passed by in a blur for Grace. Her sister and friend helped to make plans for her upcoming nuptials, but, while Grace participated in these activities with a seemingly improved disposition, her heart was not improved. She longed for a distraction, anything, however small, which would take her away from the interminable planning of her future by others, and which would throw her into the path of her desired destiny, one shared with... him. One evening, after a particul...

Jewel Listen reader, to my tale About a girl called Jewel; And all the things t’were done to her By her ‘friends’ at school. Despite her name this lonely girl Was very very plain; The only way she shined at all Was through her clever brain. She aced in math, excelled in French And did the best in art; She tried her best to befriend all (She had a great big heart). But sadly at poor Jewel’s school There was a girly mob, Who hated Jewel and all her skills To cause pain was their job. They start...

Later that day, Grace was sitting with her leg raised on a cushion on the footstool, when Fanny showed Emily into the parlour. She rushed over to Grace and threw her arms around her friend’s shoulders. “Dearest Grace, whatever have you done to yourself, my goodness you are in terrible shape, you look very ill indeed!” “Emily dearest, you are sweet, but don’t worry, it’s not serious, the doctor has been, my father called for him after breakfast, he has told me to keep my foot raised for a day ...

Grace paced impatiently across the room, looked at the clock on the mantelpiece again and threw herself onto the window seat. She waited a few minutes then got up again with a further glance at the clock. The post was late today, and Grace was expecting a letter from her sister, lately a Burlington, more recently a Hatherley, Mrs Colonel George Hatherley of Pelmont Hall, to be exact. Her sister had only been gone for 6 weeks, but she was missing Georgiana terribly. They corresponded regularly...

Little Bobby, lovely boy, Gives his parents naught but joy; Does his homework, cleans his room, Never gives a moment’s gloom. But he has an awful secret, And he really wants to keep it; When his folks are busy working, Little Bobby’s busy lurking. With his parents on the run, Little Bobby looks for fun; Grand schemes Bobby plans and hatches, How to get that pack of matches. It started when he was a lad, Hit his head and turned real bad; Started setting little fires, Barbeques and tiny pyres. ...

Wicked Deeds Gentle reader, listen clearly To these stories, purchased dearly; Of wretched children and their needs, Of evil parents, evil deeds; Who meet their ends, without a quarrel, Do read these tales and learn a moral. John's dad beat him every night, Didn't care about John's fright; One night John's dad went too far, So John pushed dad beneath a car. Hannah's mum ignored her needs, Had no praise for Hannah's deeds; Spurned poor Hannah's woes and cares, So Hannah pushed her down the sta...