Reading Notes: Czech Fairy Tales, Part A

The Waterick-

The story has a very Hansel and Gretel feel to it. I'm pretty found of that tale, and this one proved to be a nice version with the twist of water goblin things. I'd like to explore maybe what happened after the children escaped, did the Waternick come after them? Or maybe eloborate on the tricks the Waternick used to keep the children captive. There is a lot of potential with this story.

Source: The Key of Gold by Josef Baudis (1922).

Image: Hänsel und Gretel by Alexander Zick. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Storytelling Week 14: The Leshy and the Soldier

Alexei was returning home from his time as a soldier to see his family for a brief time. As he traveled to his people, he remembered an old man whom he had befriended that lived nearby. So Alexei detoured to the old man's house. When he arrived, he found the man to be alone. Alexei thought this odd as the man had a wife and a daughter and many servants last Alexei saw him. This old man was lavishly wealthy, but still Alexei found him to be all by himself. When Alexei asked about it, the old man told him that his daughter vanished away three years ago, and his wife had died of a broken heart. The old man scarce himself believed he would live to see the coming winter, for his sorrow was so much he wished to die. 

Alexei comforted his friend, and told him that by the grace of God, one day he would return the old man's daughter. After sharing a meal and staying the night, Alexei venture out once more. He walked by a silently running stream with water that seemed still as it flowed. By the stream, he happened upon a strange creature carving a small statue. It had appeared human, as like a child, but with silver hair of an elder. Alexei silently thought of this oddity as he approached. The being ceased its whittling, and replied as if Alexei had spoken out loud, "Why shan't I have grey hair, for I am old indeed. I'm the man of the pines!"

Alexei became very frightened by this and asked, "What riddle is this?"

The creature sprung to his feet, and jumped behind a tree. Suddenly, he was behind Alexei and said with a chuckle, "Riddle? That is no riddle! It is I, the Leshy of the woods! I was born from the pine and from the pine is where I came. But should you want a riddle, of those I am no short supply."

"Why would I challenge you?" Alexei asked nervously as he spun to meet the creature's gaze. "I have heard the stories of you. Leading travelers astray and stealing children. I should have no dealings with devils!"

The Leshy again vanished and reappeared across the way. "Oh, I shall give thee a prize should you win. The daughter of the old man. She had been my betrothed for some time, but refuses to wed me. should you solve my riddles, she may be yours."

As he said this, he snapped his fingers and there appeared the young woman. Her face was pale and cold. She seemed like one who was dead yet she stood. Alexei saw that she was quite beautiful even in her dreadful state. Alexei puzzled for a moment. He spoke, "And what shall become of me should I fail your challenge?"

The Leshy began to laugh and bounce about, and he said, "Then I'll take you home and share you with the Chort. I will eat your flesh, and he will devour your soul!"

Alexei wished to flee, but he had given his word to bring his friend's daughter to safety. He agreed to the challenge.

The Leshy's face twisted into a vile grin as he muttered the words of his riddle, "I die every season, yet time makes me stronger. What am I?"

Alexei looked about, it took him only a moment to know the answer. He said with great confidence, "The answer is simple. A tree!"

The Leshy was unfazed and began his second riddle as he vanished into the trees. His voice echoed through the wood, "Your turn. Speak your riddle."

"What is it that belongs to you, but others use it more?" Alexei asked.

The wind blew through the trees as the Leshy thought. "Hm," he said at last, "Your name, Alexei."

He laughed a grim laugh and began his riddle. "To all things and men I appertain, and yet by some am shunned and disdained. Fondle me and ogle me til you’re insane, but no blow can harm me, cause me pain. Children delight in me, elders take fright. Fair maids rejoice and spin. Cry and I weep, yawn and I sleep. Smile, and I too shall grin. Come find me.”

Alexei puzzled at this. He looked about hoping to see a clue. Frantically he ran about, as the Leshy's laughter grew louder and darker. "The Chort and I will be quite pleased!" The Leshy teased.

Suddenly the answer came to Alexei. A reflection! He pulled out a small mirror he had in his bag, but it shattered! The Leshy was cheating. But then he remembered the stream! He ran over and looked deep into it. There he saw the Leshy hiding in the water. He grabbed him and threw him to the ground.

"Enough of these games! What begins and has no end? What is the ending of all that begins?"

Alexei knew he would stump the demon with this one. For as a man, Alexei knew the answer. Death. But because the Leshy is immortal, neither living nor dead, it knew not the answer. It became angry and transformed its shape into a frightful image. Alexei drew his sword to fight it. As he advanced to stab it, the Leshy hit him with its monstrous claw and sent him tumbling down. His sword flew from his hand. The horror turned to him and slowly advanced. But before it could end him, Alexei's sword poked through its neck. Alexei saw behind it that the daughter had awoken and stabbed the Leshy. It flailed and swung at her, but she ducked away. Alexei took the opportunity to jump up and grab the hilt of his sword still protruding from the demon's neck. With all his might he ripped the sword to the side and the Leshy's head came clean off. The body fell to the ground and sank into the dirt. The body was destroyed and the soul sent back to the pines.

Alexei returned the girl to her father, and later married her. For the rest of their days, they lived at peace and prayed the lord protect them from the evil forest spirits.

Author's Note: The original story was about a hunter going out and finding the Leshy in the woods and shooting it dead. Afterwards he found a woman it held captive and returned her to her family. I modified that story, so that Alexei was a returning soldier. I also drew out the scene between him and the Leshy, adding the riddles. In Russian folklore, Leshy are forest gods or demons (depending on who you ask) that go about kidnapping people and feeding them to the Chort (another demon). I wanted my Leshy to convey a more devilish behavior, offering a prize for playing a game of wits, only to cheat in the end.

Image: a picture of a Leshy, by P. Dobrinin. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Source: Russian Fairy Tales by W. R. S. Ralston (1887).

Reading Notes: Russia, Part B

The Soldier and the Vampire-

Stories, like this one, with strange rituals and ways of killing supernatural beings always appeal to me. I really like how the soldier is practically a nobody, just a really brave guy. I'm not sure how I could retell the story though. Perhaps I could tell it from the warlock's perspective as he interacts with the soldier, and have his inner dialogue being very prideful and cocky. That is until his undoing at the end.

The Two Corpses-

This story reminds me of Tolkien's "The Hobbit" when the trolls spend too much time arguing about how they will eat The dwarves and get turned to stone. I wonder if he got some inspiration from this tale. I could make this story quite a fun one. The corpse, for being warlocks, seem to be pretty absent minded. And I'd like to expand on their dialogue a bit.

Image: The only way to kill the warlock is burning his body on a pyre. Source: Pixabay

Source: Russian Fairy Tales by W. R. S. Ralston (1887).

Reading Note: Russia, Part A

The Leshy-

I really like monster stories in folklore. The Leshy is one that I find interesting due to its role in many European stories. And once again, I'm a fan of the hero rescuing the damsel. I may throw in a twist where the Leshy survives the first encounter and comes back to kill the hunter. Only by working as a team can the two kill the monster. I do like the Stockholm syndrome idea of the original though, so I'll have to weigh the possibilities.

The Dead Mother-

This story makes me sad. I do like the idea of a ghostly mother sticking around to take her child with her. I may retell the story with some kind of protagonist that would interrupt the actions of the original events and maybe save the child in some way.

Image: Photo of a ghostly woman (1889); Source: Flickr

Source: Russian Fairy Tales by W. R. S. Ralston (1887).

Storytelling Week 13: The Witches' Return

Mary stepped her foot out of her car and felt a chill in the air. As she exited her taxi, she observed the manor she had recently inherited. Only a few months ago, she was struggling to pay rent for a one person apartment in South Chicago. Now she was standing at the threshold of her late aunt's estate in Northern Ireland just a few miles West of Belfast. She had never known her aunt Shelly, in fact she knew very little of her family at all. When Mary was a child, her parents had both drowned in a flood while she was safely at a baby sitter's house. Her godparents told her what they knew about her parents, but even they weren't very knowledgeable about her father's estranged sister. The news of her death was sad, but more so exciting for Mary as she was the sole remaining member of her family. Which meant she inherited all the wealth and estates of aunt Shelly.
The taxi drove away after Mary had payed the driver, but Mary felt as though she wasn't alone. She spun around hoping to catch the eyes she could feel burning their gaze into the back of her skull, but all she saw was an old well at the edge of the fence. Something drew her to this well, like one is drawn to edge of a cliff to take a peek at the bottom. The stones were crumbled and worn. A great big wooden lid was secured on top of the opening. Weeds had grown long around it, and vines inched their way up the cracks between the stones. Mary heard a small voice call her name. It sounded as though it was coming from the well. She thought at first that it was the wind, but again she heard it call her. She cautiously pushed the lid off with no small amount of straining. The darkness below felt as though it crawled up and out as Mary gazed into the well. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Mary let out a cry as she turned to see who stood behind her. It was a young man, with stubble on his chin and soft green eyes. He spoke with an Irish accent, "My apologies, miss! It wasn't my intention to frighten you."
Mary reeled back to catch her breath which she didn't realize she had been holding. "No, it's fine. I am just being jumpy. I'm sorry, who are you?" she asked politely.
"My name's John, though people round here call me Pip. I'm the grounds keeper for Miss Shelly's estate. Who are you?" he replied with a reciprocated politeness.
Mary relaxed at this, and smiled. "I'm Shelly's Niece. I was told I inherited this place from her."
"Ah, yes. Miss Mary. I thought you looked like her, with that red hair and sharp blue eyes! In fact your the spitting image of Miss Shelly when she was a young fair lass."
Mary blushed and replied, "Thank you, sir. I'll have to keep you around if you keep talking like that."
"I didn't know there was chance you wouldn't keep me around," Pip said surprised, "I've been here most of my life. Since I was a lad, Miss Shelly let me work for her."
"I'm sorry, Pip. I was only joking. Will you not give me a tour?" Mary asked.
Pip's face lit up with a smile, "Of course, Ma'am. Right this way!"
Pip led her through the main house where aunt Shelly lived. He told her that the house is well over 400 years old, though it had been renovated and expanded in the previous century. In the living room there was a great fireplace with two arm chairs facing toward it. In the back of the room was an antique table with twelve chairs sat around it. Mary thought it odd, since her aunt was known as a bit of a recluse, according to Pip. The rest of the house was well furnished and decorated with all kinds of Celtic artwork. After the tour, Pip retired to the secondary house that was a stone's throw from the main house.
Mary was left to herself in her new home. She lit the fireplace and sat down with a cup of tea in one of the arm chairs. Darkness soon fell on the estate. As she relaxed she felt a great weriness come over her. Mary attributed it to jet lag. When she about to nod off, she noticed a book on the side table beside the armchair. Curiously, she thumbed through the pages. It was her aunt's journal by the look of it. She knew she shouldn't read it, but she wanted to know her aunt's final thoughts before she died. Mary flipped to the final page that had writing on it. it read:

"Again the knocking has started. Open up, Open up, they said. I had no choice. The horns. One horn, two horn, three horn... twelves horns. Every night. Eating blood cake. Pippy can't help. I heard them talk about the well. and the mantle. I need the mantle. Pip threw it in the well, I saw him. I need to go get it or they will eat my blood for the rest of my life!"

Mary was regretful that she had read the book. Pip said her aunt spoke of strange women in the night and went on about some mantle, but they were just the ramblings of a old lonely woman. It made her sad that her aunt suffered so. She also remembered how Shelly died. Mary was told back in the States that Shelly had drowned. Could she have fallen in the well? These thoughts were worrisome, but not enough to keep the exhausted Mary from closing her eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.
                                                                               ...
Mary awoke to a loud knocking on the door. She put on her robe and walked all the way downstairs to the front door. Thinking it was Pip needing something, she opened the door. A woman with a horn growing from her head stepped in. She thanked Mary and walked over the the table with twelve seats. Mary wanted to protest, but she felt her mouth closed shut. Soon another knock came, and she was compelled to walk over and open it. A woman with two horns on her head entered and sat at the table. This continued again and again. Each time the number of horns grew until the twelfth woman entered with twelve gnarled horns. They began chanting and cutting themselves with knives. Mary watched horrified. The monstrous woman commanded her to make them a cake, and she obeyed. After that, they commanded her to bring them water. She went to the faucet in the kitchen, but no water came out. When she told them this, they hissed and cursed at her. She was thrown against the wall by a tremendous force. They sent Mary to get water from Pip's house. The witches were also very clear that she should not get near the well, or she would meet the same fate as the rest of her family.
Once outside, Mary felt autonomy again and fell to the ground weeping. Whatever was in her house, was there to stay. She went to Pip's house and went to the faucet. Still no water. Mary screamed in frustration and fear. What would they do to her if she again brought back no water? She went to awaken Pip, but he wouldn't stir. She noticed he had slices on his wrists that she hadn't noticed earlier, and his face was pale. Fearing that Pip was dead and that the witches would do the same to her, she hurried to the well to draw some water. That's when she heard the voice. A small whisper coming from the well. It beckoned to her. Then she remembered aunt Shelly's desire to get some mantle from the well. Mary figured if the witches were afraid of it, it only made since they'd warn her from going near the well. After what felt like an eternity, Mary climbed in and down. The water on the bottom was cold and the light of the moon was barely visible from down there. Mary shivered at the thought of her poor aunt drowning down there. Then she felt some kind of fabric floating in the water. The mantle! She wrapped it around her and tried to climb out. At first she struggled, but then a small force helped her out. "Go," a voice whispered, "I will help thee. Call forth the fire of old. For they hath avoided it far too long. Hell licks its lips for their taste."
Mary ran back into the house holding the veil in her hand. When the witches saw her enter the living room, they commanded her to stop. Instead, Mary took the veil and shouted, "Fire I call you! Take what is yours!" and she threw the mantle into the fire place. The witches screamed and the house shook violently. The twelve woman began to flee for the door, but it would not open. "Open up! Open up door!"
As they scratched and pleaded, the fireplace's flame grew and became like a great arm. It grabbed each one and pulled them in its heart. The screaming continued, but grew distant. Soon Mary was alone in the house. She went and sat down on the armchair and fell asleep. Mary woke up to Pip opening the curtains letting light flow through the room. She could smell the breakfast Pip had prepared for her in the kitchen. He prodded her to get up and eat, there was a lot of work to do as far as paper work went. Just a dream, Mary thought to herself as she got up to walk to the kitchen. Then she noticed something in the fire place. A small piece of fabric, black and burnt. She looked out the window, and saw the well, the lid slid off and placed beside it. Mary went to eat breakfast with Pip.

Author's Note: This is by far the longest story I've written yet. I really like horror stories, so I wanted to get the details in. This story is based on the tale of the horned women, in which an Irish wife and her family are plagued by witches forcing their way into the families home. In the original story, a spirit in a well instructs the woman on how to fool the witches to flee and she gains one of their mantles in the process. The story ends saying that the mantle protected the family for 500 years. I wanted to continue the story to the newest generation in which the witches are able to return and wreck havoc again. This time however, Mary is able to end their evil actions once and for all. I also made the ending purposefully unresolved as to whether she was dreaming or if all that actually happened.

Image: (First image)Creepy looking well posted by Alex Santosa; Source: Flickr
(Second image)An old well posted on Pixabay; Source: Pixabay

Source:Celtic Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs with illustrations by John D. Batten (1892).

Reading Notes: Celtic fairy tales, Part B

The Tale of Ivan-

This is a fun story with one great ending. I'm a big fan of when the main characters of a story aren't mauled to pieces or killed in some gruesome way for their foolishness, but instead act rightly and are rewarded. So this story really resonates when me. I'd like to retell it maybe from maybe a modern perspective, with differing situations from the original in that the advise would pertain to the world today.

Image: 14th century travelling man; Source: Wikimedia
Source:Celtic Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs with illustrations by John D. Batten (1892).

Reading Notes: Celtic Tales, Part A

The Horned Women-

I think this story has a lot of potential for a sequel, in which the descendants of the woman that fought off the witches needs help from the spirit of the well again. I'm thinking the mantle that protected the family is broken or sold and it allows the witches to return in full force to plague the descendants. It could be a very creepy story, like the original, but set in modern Ireland. Seems like it could be fun it write.

A coven of witches performing unholy rituals. Hans Baldung (1508); Source

Source: Celtic Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs with illustrations by John D. Batten (1892).

Week 12 Storytelling: Arthur Avenges Merlin

Arthur sat alone in the great hall. The round table was cleaned and polished, as the feast had been over for hours, and all the knights retired to their beds. The king noted the wind breezing through the vast room, occasionally biting at his ears. The fire by which he sat staved off the chill, though. It was not as big as it had been only hours before, there was but two logs melting away inside. The shadows danced around the room like performers, delivering a private show for Arthur. This was the first calm moment he had to himself in many days, perhaps even weeks. Before all this kingly business, he thought to himself, I scarce could get a passerby to look at me. He snickered as he considered the boy he once was, and the man that he had fought so hard to become.

Then the doors to the hall opened, and a gust of wind came through, blowing out many of the candles and swerving the fire from side to side. Arthur turned and saw a servant of his approaching with something in his hands. The item looked familiar.

"My lord the king," the servant addressed Arthur as he bowed low, "I have grim tidings for his majesty."

Arthur could've guessed it from the man's demeanor. He stood with his head bowed and eyes on the ground. He extended his hands and produced the item he carried. It was a pendent, in the shape of a swallow, made of pure gold. Arthur new what this meant. For he had such a pendant made special for his friend and mentor, the wizard named Merlin. Arthur took the pendant and felt such a sadness overcome him the likes of which he'd never known.

"How did it come to be?" Arthur asked softly.

"Some commoners found him under a stone. he had been trapped for some time, as the decay had already begin to set in. This was there as well."

The servant reached into his bag and produced a small parchment. Arthur took it as well and read the writing upon it.

It was Vivien

                                                                        ...

Several weeks had passed and Arthur sat once more in the hall. This time several of his knights accompanied him as they ate and told their stories of valor. Then a squire approached with a scroll and delivered it to Arthur's hand. Later, in his chambers, Arthur read the missive. It gave information on the whereabouts of the sorceress Vivien. For when he learned of Merlin's death at her hands, all his sorrow turned to rage and he sent out many servants and knights to track her down. Now was his chance to bring her to justice. For she murdered his friend.

Arthur set out with only his horse and his sword Excalibur. He rode for a day and then another. Then he reached a small hamlet that bordered a swamp. There the people warned him of the witch that had taken the swamp as her abode. Arthur feared not. For the Lord was with him. He left his horse with the villagers and ventured into the swamp on foot.

It felt as though he was being strangled as the air was nigh unbreathable, and smelt of rot. He knew it to be an enchantment Vivien had set. For he knew of her skill, as she had been a student of Merlin himself. Arthur's blood boiled as he thought of her betrayal. Merlin trusted and loved her more than any. He taught her all his ways. She killed him when she no longer needed him. Vivien must die, he thought.

"Why have you come, Arthur Pendragon?" a voice rang out from the dark tangled branches.

"To seek revenge for one I loved. Perhaps you know of him. His name was Merlin!" Arthur shouted with what breath he could muster.

A taunting laughter came from the woods as a woman appeared before him. She was slender and beautiful. Her long black hair hang down to the small of her back. There was no mistaking the witch called Vivien. She spoke, "He was an old man who was soon to die anyway. The fool annoyed me with his constant advances. I had learned enough from him, so I shut him away. Had he been as wise as he claims, he would've seen it coming. Now go, before I reunite you to him."

"You have confessed your guilt to me, "Arthur declared as he drew his sword. "I sentence you to death!"

At this Arthur lunged forward, but hit only air as the witch vanished before him. He turned only for his cheek to meet her clawed hand. He stumbled backward, pawing at his wound and slashing Excalibur at her. She pounced of him and set him supine in the mud. He scrambled to his feet pointing the sword tip at her. He lunged again to impale her, but she glided out of his way and sent her elbow into his forehead. Blood leaked from his wound as Arthur struggled to breath. Her super human dance became difficult to track as his vision became obscured by the blood. Then she was gone again. Arthur turned and once again met her strike. This time he was ready. He caught her hand mid swing and sliced at her. His blade married the flesh of her stomach, creating a painful wound. She screamed and stepped back.

Now the air was thickening and Arthur was gasping for air. He fell to his knees. As his sight was growing dark, he looked up and saw Vivien, now shape-shifted into an crow, trying to fly away. He brandished Excalibur and threw it straight at the witch. The blade found its mark, and the crow came tumbling down. Vivien transformed back into her human form before she hit the ground. The air immediately began to clear up. Arthur lumbered toward her as he regained his breath. He saw Vivien laying motionless on the ground. The blade stood erect as it had so many years ago. Only this time, instead of the stone, it was in the heart of Merlin's murderer. Arthur wiped away the blood from his brow and retrieved his sword.

The witch lay dead, and Merlin had been avenged.

Merlin and Vivien by Alfred Tennyson; Source: Wikimedia Commons

Author's Note: This story is the continuation of the story of the Passing of Merlin. In it, Merlin is tricked into wandering into a tomb by his pupil and romantic interest Vivien, who then traps him with a stone. The story ends with her merrily wandering off. I wanted to tell the story of Arthur's reaction and quest for vengeance after learning of his friends death. I am aware that in some versions of the Arthur saga that Vivien is actually the Lady of the Lake that give Arthur the sword, but for the sake of my story I made her to be more of an evil witch.

Source: King Arthur: Tales of the Round Table by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1902).

Reading Notes: King Arthur, Part B

The Adventures of Sir Percivale-

I'd like to go into great detail of the battle between the lion and the serpent, and of course sir Percivale stepping in to the battle as well. I could start the story right after Percivle's horse revealed itself to be a demon and threw him off. Then he could wander tirelessly until he happened upon the battle. And, of course, the serpent will be a dragon like creature because I'm a nerd that likes knights fighting dragons.

The Temptation of Sir Percival by Arthur Hacker; Source: Wikimedia Commons

Source: Source: King Arthur: Tales of the Round Table by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1902).

Reading Notes: King Arthur, Part A

The Passing of Merlin-

I wouldn't necessarily retell this story, but I want to continue it. I want to explore Arthur's reaction and how he goes about dealing with losing his mentor and friend. Also, maybe write about what he does to avenge him. I didn't see anything else about her and her fate. I feel like writing a story about Arthur searching out for the evil witch that killed Merlin and fighting her magic could be a fun adventure to go on.

Merlin and Nimue from Le Morte d'Arthur; Source: Flickr

Source: King Arthur: Tales of the Round Table by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1902).

Week 11 Storytelling: The Great Flood and the Valley of Death

Once upon a time, there was a man that lived in a small house with his wife and children, as well as his brother and his family. He and his brother hunted across the fields in the day, and their wives would cook what they brought back for their families. One day, as the man was washing his face in a nearby river, a dog came to him. "Shoo, mutt! We have no room for you in my household!" he shouted to scare the dog away.

The dog remained unmoved. The man stood up and walked away, as the dog's stare was troubling him. The next day, after a long day of hunting, he returned to the river to fetch some water for his wife. There, again the dog appeared, a observed him closely. This happened every day for a week. Finally the man threw his hands up and said, "What? What is it you want from me, hound?"

"I am no hound."

The man looked about him, as the voice was not in his ears, but within his head. "What are you? A spirit? A ghost come to take me away?" he asked frantically.

"Nay," said the voice, "I am neither of those. I am a messenger. You must build a boat, for a great storm is coming that will wash away the world. You and your family will survive, but only if you do as I say."

So everyday after, the man would go to the river, where materials for building could be found. The dog would watch him daily. One day, as he was building, he ran out of twine to tie together some beams. He ventured home to find his brother and ask to borrow some. His brother, who did not approve of his foolish endeavors, told him to scavenge some twine from the valley. But as the man began that way, the dog appeared and warned him, "You must sleep now, for you have done all that needed to be done today. Rest now, for the valley holds nothing but death." He was confused by this, but followed the advise and went home.

Soon enough, the great raft was finished, though all the people in the surrounding area mocked him, for they had not seen the dog. Not even a day after the raft's completion, rain began to fall. The people hunkered under their roofs, as water was not known to fall in those days but come from the ground. The man and his family boarded the boat, but his headstrong brother refused. His brother told him that he would seek shelter in the valley where the his house was. As soon as he left, the water began to rise from the river, and the boat took off. There were many animals that had taken shelter on the boat as well, for the dog had given the man instructions for a boat that could fit them all. The sun did not shine on the Earth for many days, as it was perpetually raining. After some time, even the mountains were drowned by the deluge.

Then one day, the sun appeared from behind the clouds and the water began to recede. Some time after that, the man and his family and all the animal passengers walked on wet, muddy ground. The man thanked the Creator for bringing his family out of the flood alive.

Some days later, as he was walking the new earth, he heard the sounds of a dance. Surely, he thought, there cannot be anyone left after that flood! So he followed the sound which lead him to a valley. Looking down, he saw bones. Countless bones. Strewn across the entirety of the valley. He heard his brother calling him to join their dance. That is when he finally understood the dog's warning about the valley. He went home to his family, and began rebuilding the world.

Author's Note: The original story was more brief in that the man finds the dog which tells him to build a raft, he and his family jump on, it floods, then he has the experience of seeing the bones in the valley. I wanted to blend a little more detail into my retelling. I also borrowed elements from the Biblical story about Noah and his actions during the flood, as I'm tempted to say both the stories had the same source.

Source:Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney (1900).

Image: The Valley of Dry Bones (1873); Source: Wikimedia Commons

Week 11 Reading Notes: Myths of the Cherokee, Part B

The Red Man and the Uktena-

This could be a fun story to continue were it ends. I could write a story where, years after the events of the original, the hunter who received the medicine could pass it down to his son, explaining how he got it and to remember to respect the spirits that made it. 

The Bullfrog Lover-

These are strange stories, but I'd like to maybe retell the first one in the set. I could focus more on the young man and how he formulates his plan to trick the old woman into letting him marry her daughter. He would be fun to write for, as he seems like a clever one, using the womans superstition as a catalyst for his endeavors. 

A Bullfrog sketch by Pearson Scott Foresman; Source: Wikimedia Commons

Source: Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney (1900).

Week 11 Reading Notes: Myths of the Cherokee, Part A

The Deluge-

This one is short and sweet. I immediately read it because I love flood stories, and how virtually all civilizations seem to have some form of flood in their mythologies. I could really enjoy writing from the perspective of the man who survived the flood and expand on the valley of bones, which really spooked me out.

Great Flood by Bonaventura Peeters; Source: Wikimedia Commons

Tobacco and Strawberries-

I'd really like to write a story over the strawberry origin story, simply because it made my heart smile. I could write it as an inner monologue within the Sun as he tries to get the woman to stop and return home. I could imagine his frustration at the situation.

Source: Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney (1900).

Week 10 Storytelling: A Tale of the First Men and the First Death

I was the first man. Well, I was one among the first men during the beginning of the world. In that time, there was no sun and the only light we had was in our houses. You see, in the before time water could burn like oil, so we always had a light going to shelter us from the abyss beyond. I don't remember much of my childhood. I remember willow bushes and being cold. Then I recall my mother's face. She was the first warmth I had ever felt. Then I saw my father. Together they brought up my brothers and sisters. Clothing and feeding us food from the earth. Soon, more people came and grew up with us. Men became husbands and women became wives. More children were born. Soon my family grew very large.

As good as it was to have soon many relatives, I wanted a friend. Someone different from me, that had strengths and weaknesses that complimented my own. So I went out with a rope and began to hit it on the ground saying, "Hok! Hok! Hok!".

As I did, dogs formed from the snowy hills and came to me, so then my friends arrived. I played with my dogs for many days and they, too, multiplied. Soon I met my wife and had many children with her. My family grew ever larger. As the years went on, I grew older and older. I have now gone blind, and have become lame. I simply wish to die.

Two of my sisters who share my fate speak thus: "It is better to live in darkness, if we can be without death!"

"No!" I said, "For I would have my children to have light and my self be able to lie down."

As I spoke, my words became reality.

The sun began to rise above the horizon, and light streamed over the hills, melting away the snow. Everyone walked out of their homes and was stunned by the beauty.

Presently, I am standing in the light. Though I cannot see it with my eyes, my body and soul are warmed by its presence. I feel it calling me up to it. Am I to be the first to die?

My body remains laying on the warm ground as I lift myself toward the sun, the source of light and my own death. For with the sun comes time. But the darkness will soon fall on my children again, so I shall give myself as I light to them. Every night I will rise to smile on my children and keep the darkness that I knew in my life from them forever.

The souls of those who have died watching over the night sky; Source: Pixabay

Author's Note: The original story was about how the first men came to earth and grew in populations. Most of my story has similar details to the original, only mine is told as though being recounted by the first man to die. In the original, those who died went into the sky to become a star, which I hinted at near the end.

Source: Eskimo Folk-Tales by Knud Rasmussen with illustrations by native Eskimo artists (1921).

Reading Notes: Eskimo Folk Tales, Part B

Papik, Who Killed His Wife's Brother-

I really want to retell this one from the perspective of one of the hunters who saw the beast fall onto Papik. I really love monsters and curses in myths and folklore, so this is definitely down my alley. I might expand more on a single hunter and make up some kind of backstory about how he knew papik and the curse his mother in law placed on him. 

The monster is described as a bear. Source: Pixabay

Source: Eskimo Folk-Tales by Knud Rasmussen with illustrations by native Eskimo artists (1921).

Reading Notes: Eskimo Folk Tales, Part A

The Coming of Men:

This has got to be one of my favorite creation stories thematically. The breaking of the stereotypical sun bringing life is very interesting. In this story, the sun brought death unto people, but in return they could leave their homes and hunt. I would really enjoy writing a story from the perspective of one of these 'first men'. Maybe I could even write the life story of the first man to die, who just couldn't figure out how to die. I could also have him recounting the events of his life, like when the first woman found him and made him clothes, or when he found the dogs. Lots of possibilities with this one.

The Giant Dog:

This is a strange story with an unusual twist at the end, but I like that. I could write the story from the perspective of the man who owns the giant dog, or even a frightened villager recounting the tales of this monstrous beast.

Source: Eskimo Folk-Tales by Knud Rasmussen with illustrations by native Eskimo artists (1921).

Image:Drawing of a giant dog lifting a sleeping man out of bed. Main illustration for the story "The Fangs of Tsan-Lo". Internal illustration from the Canadian reprint edition of the pulp magazine Weird Tales (January 1946, vol. 38, no. 3, page 77). Source: Wikimedia

Week 9 Storytelling: The Unfortunate Fate of Asinus

Have I ever told you the story of Asinus, the fool? No? Well it is a story of great compassion but also great betrayal...

Long ago, there lived a man named Asinus. In the time before I met him, he was wandering around in the land of Macedonia. He was a right fool, and a selfish one at that. Many times he was set to visit me, but always would find some distraction, by chance. Then one day, he fell into a pit. By whom this pit was dug, I'm unsure, but I had the utmost gratitude when I heard he was finally in a position in which I could find him. When I happened upon this pit, I found he was not alone; He had the company of a viper, a mouse, and a lion. Although these beasts did not frighten me, I delayed to go in the pit to him, as I figured he wasn't going anywhere. So I left on other business for a brief time. When I returned to the pit, I was annoyed to find that Asinus and all the others were gone. "How could this be!" I cried in alarm.

That is when the viper slithered by. I stopped it to ask how they all escaped. "The generous hunter happened upon us, sir. We begged him to free us, and free us he did! In return, we all gave him a gift. The lion pledged to bring the man a portion of his hunt to eat. The mouse would bring him valuables that it found on its travels. I surrendered a highly sought after anodyne for my venom." The viper explained.

"A cure for a snake bite? How quaint. I hope you don't give that out to every man who pulls you from a hole!" I said

"Nary a thought of it!" replied the serpent, "Besides, it only works if mixed with the blood of a traitor."

"And the man that shared the pit with you? What gift did he give the hunter?"

"He had nothing to give, so he pledged his servitude in exchange for his life."

"His life should not be his to give!" I said as the anger swelled inside.

I then searched out for this hunter who had saved the fool. I found a small hut not too far away, but it had been abandoned. He must have moved recently. Finally, after many weeks of searching, I found the hunter. He had grown rich with the gifts from the animals, and lived in a mansion. Before I could approach to question him regarding Asinus, he was arrested by some guards! I simply could not sit by and let my only lead be carried off to lord knows where. I followed them to a palace, where he was told the reason for his arrest. He was accused of stealing the local patrician's valuables to bolster his own wealth. And who had accused him? None other than that fool Asinus. 

It seemed this good man was about to die for a lie. I quickly found the viper and asked a favor of it to save his life. It agreed, and I bought it to the patrician's son. It bit him and infected him with its deadly venom. The patrician begged for someone to help him. The hunter caught wind of these events and offered his cure. However, he told them he needed the blood of a traitor to make it work. After hearing out the hunter's story, the patrician believed him and ceased Asinus.

That day, the hunter helped save the patrician's son, and Asinus... Well, I finally had a chance to catch up with him.

Author's Note: The original tale was of a hunter in Africa saving a snake, mouse, tiger, and man from a trap and each rewarding him with wealth, a snake bite cure, and servitude. The man he saves betrays him by claiming he acquired his wealth by dishonest means. In the end, the day is saved by the snake bite venom, much like my story ends. The main difference between these two stories is that my takes place in Macedonia during the days of Rome. I chose this setting because I'm a bit more familiar with it and I wanted to diverge more from the original. The other major change was the choice to have death narrate the story. I didn't want it to be entirely obvious that it was death searching out Asinus (which is later for fool), but give it a more subtle almost missable quality. 

Bibliography: West African Folktales by William H. Barker and Cecilia Sinclair, with drawings by Cecilia Sinclair (1917).

Image: The fate of Asinus. Crux Simplex by Justus Lipsius (1547-1606); Source: Wikimedia

Reading Notes: West Africa, Part B

I really enjoyed the story of the Ram and the Leopard. The story is pretty funny, honestly, with the two creatures building the same home without the other knowing. And the premise of the ram slipping and scaring off the leopard is pretty entertaining as well. Though if I were to retell this, I'm not sure how to go about doing it. I could change the animals, like make it a wolf and a donkey or something.

I also could retell the story of the Ungrateful Man, but changing the setting and characters into a corporate setting. I'd change each animal into a person of various positions in a company or something like that. The ungrateful man could be like an intern or something. That could be funny.

Bibliography: West African Folktales by William H. Barker and Cecilia Sinclair, with drawings by Cecilia Sinclair (1917).
Images: (left) Amur Leopard Pittsburgh Zoo; Source: Wikimedia Commons
(Right) Photo of a Ram uploaded to Pixabay; Source: Pixabay

Reading Notes: West African Folktales, Part A

I really enjoyed the story about Anansi and Nothing. The whole time I was waiting for the punchline about his name being nothing and was surprised when it finally came up. I'd like to do this, but with a modern America twist. Make nothing a part guy with a crappy job and Anansi some big shot business man or something. I'd probably also change the detail about nothing's wife being given to him, as that is kind of weird to me.

Poor nothing and Rich Anansi

Picture posted by user geralt; Source: Pixabay

Week 8 Progress

After reviewing my grades and the points I need to aquire an A, I see that I'm currently just a few points shy of getting a B at this point. And while that wouldn't be the end of the world, I see no reason to not get an A. So it seems I'll have to step up my extra credit game in order to achieve that.

I'm pretty happy with my work so far. I'm comfortable with it, but I should push myself so I can get that A. For the rest of the semester, I will have to get that weekend homework done ASAP on Friday, so it doesn't keep biting my butt on Sunday evenings. And like I've already said, I need to do more extra credit.

Image posted to Wikimedia Commons by user Dungdm93; Source: Wikimedia Commons

Week 8 Comments and Feedback

Overall, I receive very positive feedback for my stories and project. Most of the time it's only praise though, but sometimes I get a bit of criticism and questions clarifying points in my stories. As far as my own commenting goes, I'm pretty satisfied with it, usually pointing out at least one thing they could do better, but I think I should spend more time on other improvements the person could make on their stories. I actually really enjoy the bloggosphere we've created for this class and it's nice reading my classmates stories just for fun sometimes. Although, I still prefer face to face interaction, this is still a nice way to socialize without going to class. I suppose making feedback more useful to me would require me to read them more often as I'm working on a new story, so I can learn from my past mistakes and use that feed back as a building block for new projects.

(cheezburger)

I chose this image because it doesn't help to just find a mistake, but look for the reason it was made and correct accordingly.

Week 8 Reading and Writing

After looking through my previous stories and writings from the semester, I've realized several things.

1. I've gotten much better at condensing the stories into the 800-1000 word limit. My first few were awfully long, and now my last couple have started to get shorter. I think that's a good thing. I'm learning how to convey information in smaller quicker chunks.

2. I need to write better reading notes. Right now, my notes are basically a reminder of what story I want to retell that week with a few ideas. I bet if I added more to them, the writing process for the stories would be a lot less stressful and rushed.

3. My favorite section, by far, was the biblical stories one. I really enjoyed retelling those stories in a different way. It was just fun take take these stories from my childhood and make my own from them.

4. My project is going to be really tough when it comes to finding sources that are reputable. I'm actually falling behind because I can't get a hold of someone I was going to ask for a story from!

5. I'd say my biggest accomplishment was just staying on task and doing all the assignments, even when I really didn't feel like it. Usually by the time I finished, I realized that I really enjoy it. So I guess I've found my love for storytelling.

The picture above was the one I featured in my last story, "The Warrior, the Princess, and the Dragon". I like it so much because I'm a total medieval history nerd, I love the archetype of the hero slaying the beast to save the damsel, and the idea of the hero killing the dragon hearkens to the story of Christ and his victory over evil.

Image: Saint George Killing the Dragon by Bernat Matorell (1434); Source: Wikimedia Commons

Week 7 Storytelling: The Warrior, the Princess, and the Dragon

The warrior found himself wandering in the lands of the northern realms when he happened upon a trio on the road. He saw a crone and a codger and a beautiful young maiden. Her sight brought him to question why she and they should be upon this road. As he came near he saw that they cried with each other as though they were parting for a final time. "Hail, good people. Do you have want of aid?" he asked.

The old man turned to him, with tears welling in his eyes. He stood and stumbled to the warrior and said, "Aye, young swordsman. I was once the king of all this land, but a beast from hell has come upon us and we have lost all that we had. It devoured our warriors, our horses, and our surfs. It broke our castles, our strongholds, and our towns. The demon burned my sons but spared my wife and daughters. Since then, every fifth day, he would come back and devour another of my daughters. Three he has claimed, and now my final child now awaits the same fate. I have begged him to take my life instead, but he revels in my pain."

The warrior gave his word that on that very day the beast would die, but only if the princess would be his reward. She consented to wed him should her life be saved. So the warrior went from them, and began his work. He hunted one hundred stags and two hundred boars. He seasoned them with salts and spices he acquired on his travels to far away lands. The spices were known to be too much for even the mightiest man to eat.  He called upon the Lord and saints to bless the water of a nearby stream. As he finished his prayers a breeze swept through the land, and the sweet smell caught the attention of the great dragon that was on his way to eat the maiden. He turned and flew toward the feast the hero prepared.

The  warrior hid in the bushes as the hell-spawn ravaged the carrion. he ate until all the morsels were devoured, then let out a great roar. The pain from the spices made the serpent writhe and plead. It ran to the river and began to suck the water up. Only after the river was empty and the water no longer flowed was the beast at last satiated. It rolled onto its back and fell into a slumber, for it had eaten a great deal of flesh.

As the monster slept, the warrior fell upon it, striking at its heart. The dragon awoke quickly and lowered its jaw to bring fire upon the man. But his hell-fire was quenched by the blessed water of the stream. The dragon realized this only as the warrior's blade pierced into his heart. It let out one final roar as its life blood shot from the wound. 

On that day, the warrior wed the princess and built a new kingdom that was even great than his father-in-law's had ever been.

Saint George Killing the Dragon by Bernat Matorell (1434); Source: Wikimedia Commons

Author's Notes: The story this is based on was a Japanese legend about a warrior god fighting an eight headed serpent to rescue a goddess to marry. In that story, the warrior entices it with super strong alcohol and gets it drunk. I wanted to go in the same vein as that, but couldn't figure out where my warrior would get the alcohol. So I went with having him hunt a ton of animals and then trick the dragon into drinking holy water. 

Bibliography: Romance of Old Japan, Part I: Mythology and Legend by E. W. Champney and F. Champney (1917).

Reading Notes: Japanese Mythology, Part A

The Miraculous Mirror-

The poetic form this story takes is wonderful. If I retell this story, I deeply hope to recreate that ABAB Rhyme scheme. It could prove tricky, but I think I could do it.

At first reading, this story was hard to understand, at least for me. The flowery language really threw me off a bit. I suppose that can be expected when converting a language like Japanese into English.
If I retell this story I'd like to change the main character to be the one who makes the mirror to fool Amaterasu into coming out. I feel like the original story kind of ignores who actually made it, so that could be a fun direction to take. I might also change the ending to where they have to fight the dragon because he was also forgotten at the end of the story.

The Eight-Forked Serpent of Koshi-

Ah, the classic hero saving the beautiful damsel from a fierce beast. I have wanted to write a story about a hero saving a princess of sorts all semester, and I might have just found a great one to retell. My story would be set in medieval Europe, though because that's material I have somewhat of a grasp on. I might throw out the whole daughter of the gods thing, but who knows, maybe I can make it work. Also, The previous story about the mirror inspires me to write this one in a poetic form as well. I just might try it.

Miniature of St George and the Dragon, ms. of Legenda Aurea, dated 1348

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Bibliography: Romance of Old Japan, Part I: Mythology and Legend by E. W. Champney and F. Champney (1917).

Week 6 Storytelling: The Clever Jackal

A long time ago, deep in the jungle, there live a tiger. This tiger was fierce and terrifying, able to kill any man that wandered into his domain. Because of this, all the animals feared him. But one day, the tiger fell upon a man hunting in the jungle and ate him whole, and began to feel ill. The tiger, believing that his end was near had his most trusted servant, the hyena send a message out that all animal were to come pay their respects to the tiger. So many came and said their final goodbyes.

Meanwhile, the jackal was lounging about his den when he suddenly remembered about the tiger and his illness. He realized how late he was going to be, as the tiger was on the other side of the jungle than he. So he devised a plan to escape the tiger's wrath.

A couple hours later, the jackal arrived in the tigers home. The hyena scuffed at him saying, "The jackal finally decides to see the king then? Where were you when we summoned you? Surely, you should be punished for your negligence to the great tiger!" (For the hyena and jackal had always been great enemies)

The jackal replied, "I heard the tiger's summons and went out immediately. However, seeing that the tiger is deathly ill, I saw it futile to come empty handed."

He produced several roots and herbs to give tot he tiger, "Eating these should cure you, my lord. However," he smiled, "You need to lay on the skin of a freshly killed hyena in order for the cure to work."

So the tiger slew the hyena and lay on his skin. Soon enough, he began to feel better. For his deeds the jackal was rewarded by the tiger and became a close friend to him.

...

One day the jackal laid in his den playing his drum, when the tiger came forth and asked him, "Nephew, I was betrayed by the cat. I sent him into a village to bring me fire so we could cook a deer, but he never returned. I swore to eat him because he forced me to eat the deer raw, now he won't leave the confines of the village. The very same village is guard by dogs with nooses they can use to hang me! You are like a dog, perhaps you can parlay with them on my behalf?"

The jackal went with the tiger to see these strange dogs and laughed when he beheld them. He told the tiger, "Uncle, you're too foolish! Those are not nooses for which to hang you. They are the dog's tails! They're just curly. Go forward and get the cat, the dogs won't hang you."

And he went back to his den.

...

Again the jackal was in his den, when the tiger came and said, "I need your help once more, Nephew! I left my cave to hunt this morning, and when I returned, a strange beast made a dreadful noise at me from within. He had hemp tied onto his chin and great big horns."

The jackal told the tiger, "If what you say is true, then the beast that haunts your home is of a kind that I eat quite often. Lead me there!"

So they ventured to the tigers cave and tied their tails together, so if the beast grabbed one they could pull eachother away. Then, a small goat jumped out and yelled, "Hum pakpak!" 

The tiger was so started, that he ran out. As he did, his tail scraped all the fur off the jackal's tail. The jackal let out a howl of pain, which frightened the little goat, who quickly ran out of the cave as well. The jackal returned to the tiger with tears we

lling from the pain. He said, "You owe me now double. For removing the beast from your cave and tearing the hair off my tail! You should give me this cave in compensation."

The tiger agreed, and on that day the jackal acquired the home of the mighty tiger.

Author's Notes: This story is the conglomerate of three different stories. The first is about a tiger falling ill from eating too much and the jackals convincing him to kill the hyena to cure himself. The second is about a cat that goes to a village to get fire but realizes quickly that life among humans is much more comfortable than life in the wild, and his tiger friends try to kill him. The third story is about a goat that escapes a village and takes up residence in a leopard's cave. I decided to put all three together and make the jackal the main focus. The jackal plays some role in all three stories, so I figured it be easy to retell them from his perspective more or less. I also wanted to end it with him winning something for all he did for the tiger.

Bibliography: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909)

Images: (Top) A drawing of a tiger, Source: Pixabay

               (Bottom) A side-stripped Jackal, Photo by Brenard Dupont; Source: Wikimedia Commons

Reading Notes: Santal Stories, Part B

The Tigers and the Cat
The Hyena Outwitted
The Brave Jackal
I think I could tell the story of the Jackal from several of the stories in the selected reading. I'd make them all focus on the same Jackal helping his Uncle the tiger out of various situations like the goat in his cave and the dogs with curly tails. The story could also hold elements from the other stories like the Jackal playing the drum and maybe even mentioning when the tiger was sick in the Hyena outwitted. My story would basically be a conglomerate of all those stories with a single Jackal being the main character. I'd probably start it with the story of the tiger being sick, explaining how the Jackal established a relationship with the tiger, then the story about the tiger being afraid of the dogs, and end it with the goat scaring both the tiger and Jackal.

Illustration by John D Batten for "Indian Fairy Tales" edited by Joseph Jacobs, 1892; Source: Wikimedia

Bibliography: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

Reading Notes: Santal Folklore, Part A

The Jackal and the Crow-

I really like this story, and want to retell it. My retelling might have people as the main characters. That would certainly make it harder to translate it into a human story, but I think I can make it work. Probably, I'd have the Jackal character betray his friend, the crow character. After he realizes how easy it was to do things on his own, he starts to 'screw over' other people as well. Then in the end it all catches up to him. The ending might be changed as well because I love happy endings and characters learning a lesson and not just dying. So I might have the Crow character come back and save his friend in the end and have the Jackal character learn a valuable lesson in friendship and treating others with respect.

The jackal and crow sharing a meal

photo credit goes to Yusuf IJsseldijk; Source: Wikimedia Commons

Bibliography: Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

Week 5 Storytelling: Dan and His Luck

Dan was sitting in his chair, browsing his social media accounts. For a moment he glanced over to the classifieds, but quickly brought his eyes back to his screen. Maybe later, he thought to himself. He knew he needed money to pay several overdo bills, but he was too busy to get a job, in his view. I'll look through them tomorrow. 

Then his phone rang; It was his brother, Sherman, calling. Sherman was the owner of a successful restaurant in town. Dan had previously thought about working there, but hated the idea of working under his little brother. "Hey, Shermanistan! Whadup, brother?" Dan said with a forced enthusiasm.

Sherman's deep elegant voice replied on the other end, "Oh, not much. Just finishing up for the day, thought I'd invite you over for my house party tonight. I haven't seen you in so long, and knowing you, you probably need to get out of the house for a bit!". Sherman was always the brutally honest type.

"I don't know... I'm pretty busy right now," Dan replied, "I'll see if I can make it out there a bit later."

"Brother, come over! I'd like to see you."

"We'll see."

After a somewhat awkward silence, Dan heard Sherman sigh then say, "Alright, Dan. If you need anything, just give me a call. There's always a place here for you. And a job."

"Thanks. bye!" Dan said forcefully as he hang up the phone. He hated when Sherman talked down on him like that. I'm perfectly able to find a job on my own. I don't need his help, Dan thought bitterly. Sherman always seemed like everything went well for him. Dan had the exact opposite of that, and it drove him crazy.

After he cooled down a bit, he felt sorry for the way he snapped at his brother. He decided to make it up he'd go to the party. So he stood up, got dressed, and went on his way.

When he arrived at his brother's house, he saw a small woman cutting the lawn. She was elderly, but strong looking. She stood straight and proper as she moved the mower over the grass. Dan had never seen her before, and didn't know Sherman to be the kind of man to hire someone else to cut his own grass. As he walked by, she smiled and said, "Hello, Daniel."

Dan was thrown off for a moment. He forced a smile and said, "Hello, Ma'am." and continued walking toward the door. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him and he turned and asked, "Do I know you?"

"Oh, no. You know my sister, though. I am Sherman's luck, I watch over him. My sister belongs to you, but she is lazy and youthful. She sleeps under a bridge. The address by the bridge is 134 Proverb lane."

"Proverb lane? That's not too far from here! I'll go wake my luck, and then I'll have everything my brother has! Dan quickly ran to his bike and started peddling, but he got only a few feet before his chain broke and the bike ceased to work. I knew I should've replaced that earlier. I really need to wake my luck up! He thought.

As he walked down the street, he came across a young man staring at a small gold coin. The man looked distraught, so Dan asked him what the matter was. "My father died and only left me this stupid trinket. What am I to do with this!" The man replied.

Dan smiled, "I'll tell you what. I'm going to wake up my luck. When I do, I'll ask for some advise for you!" And he merrily walked on.

Soon after, he met a very beautiful woman sitting on the street curb. She was wearing an elegant dress and had her hair done up. Dan stopped and asked, "What is such a lovely young woman doing sitting on the curb?"

She said holding back tears, "I just got stood up again. I'm never going to find love!"

"I'm going to wake my luck! When I do, I'll ask if there's anyway I can help you." Dan said to reassure her, and started away once more.

In time, Dan was on a busy street when he met a poorly groomed man on the sidewalk. The man asked him, "I'm so hungry, but got no money for food. Anyway you can help me?"

Dan assured him that he would ask for help from his luck for the man.

Finally, Dan found his luck lying under the bridge. She stirred when he nudged her, and asked drowsily, "What is it? I want to sleep more."

Dan asked her, "Miss, I've come to get you to work. Also, I have several questions for you."

He asked her about the people he met on his way, and this was her answer:

"The young man with the coin, tell him that it is worth millions, as it is a relic from a long gone civilization. For the young lady, tell her that she must look for a man that will do something for her when he expects nothing in return and will care for her. For the poor man, tell him to rob the next fool who trusts a stranger. Now, go. I'll be with you."

So the man ran gleefully back to the young man, and told him about the coins value. The man was overcome with joy, and offered to give Dan a portion of this great discover, as he would've thrown it away otherwise. Dan replied, "No thank you, sir. I'm lucky now, and have no need to split money with you."

Dan then went to the young lady and informed her of what luck said. She said, "Well, you did that for me, and you seemed concerned for me. Would you like to meet up sometime?"

Dan declined stating, "Sorry, miss. You seem like a great lady, but I'm lucky now, and will surely meet my true love soon."

After that he went to where he met the poor man, and didn't see him. From an alley way, he heard his voice beckon him. So he went into the alley and found the poor man. Dan said, "My luck said, 'rob the next fool who trusts a stranger.'"

"Good advise," the poor man said as he pulled out a knife, "I think I'll follow it." and he stole what money Dan had left.

Infuriated, Dan went to find his luck, but she was gone. He went back his brother's home and knocked on the door. By now, the party was over and everyone was gone. His luck answered the door. Dan asked her, "Where were you? You told me all the advise for these other folk, but haven't helped me!"

"I was with you when you denied the money, turned down that lovely lady, and decided to walk into the alley. Believe it or not, I have very little to do with what happens to you. I can set you up for success, but your foolishness will get in the way!"

Dan opened his eyes. He found himself in his chair, his phone on the ground beside him. He had a missed call from Sherman. Dan got up and went to his brother's house. The party was going, and Sherman was talking with some of his friends. He turned and saw Dan approaching him. Before he could say anything Dan said, "I'd like to ask for a job."

Sherman blinked in surprise and said, "Well... of course! we can get you started as a dish washer and see where it goes from there! But let's not discuss this now. Here, meet some of my friends. This is David, Sam, Sherry, and Lisa."

Dan's eyes froze on Lisa. She was the girl from his dream. She gave him and shy smile. It was in that moment he realized, luck was with him, but it was up to him to make his dreams come true.

Author's Notes: The original story and mine differ in mostly the setting, the people he meets along the way, and the ending. The original setting was in ancient Persia, but I wanted to modernize this tale a bit. The people in the story originally were a gardener, a king who is secretly a woman, a thorn picker, and a wolf. I removed the thorn picker because his part of the story offers no opportunity for the protagonist to foolishly ignore. The king became Lisa, the beautiful girl, because I wanted to give the character a romantic interest that he would've been with because he likes her, not to become a king. The wolf and gardener became the man with the coin and the poor man, and they served the same function in my story. Except, the poor man didn't kill Dan, unlike the original story. The ending was a bit cheesy, I'll admit, but for good reason.  I understand waking up and it all being a dream is cliche, but Dan's luck is a symbol of himself, thus he is sleeping and only wakes up when he realizes he can't count on luck to make his life better. I hate it when the foolish characters die at the end of stories because I feel like there wasn't any growth, just death.

Bibliography:Persian Tales, translated by D.L.R. Lorimer and E.O. Lorimer and Illustrated by Hilda Roberts (1919).

Image: (Top) Dan starts on his Journey. 'Making Light of a Dark Situation' by Ross2085. Source: Flikr
(Bottom)Dan needs to wake up and make his dreams come true. 'Asleep at the Wheel' by Aaron Jacobs. Source: Flikr