07 Heaven

The boy tiptoed into the driveway. He was very careful not to tread on the flowers scattered on the ground. His mother fished her keys out of her pocket while balancing her bag full of groceries on one knee. Father was coming home early to spend some time with them. She told him so this morning. His mother kept the door open with her back and called his name. He jumped as far as he could, but did not clear the flowers completely. Then he ran inside.

Their house was made of yellow bricks. In all the storybooks the houses were red. He made a point of only drawing yellow houses. ‘To make up for it,’ he told anyone near enough to hear it.

The house was large, larger than any other he had been in, and it had an even bigger garden. When his mother called it their little heaven, he always corrected her. It was not little. And neither was he for that matter. Then his mother would laugh and lift him up and call him her big boy.

His mother made the dinner while he played; in his room, the living room, up and down the stairs, in the second bedroom, in the hall, on the terrace and in the garden. When he got tired he went inside and into the kitchen.

‘When is father coming home?’ he asked.

‘Anytime now, dear,’ his mother put the food back in the oven, ‘I called the office, but he had already left.’

The boy’s stomach growled.

‘I’m hungry,’ he said.

‘I know, dear,’ his mother smiled, ‘but your father will be home anytime now, and then we can all eat together.’

The boy went to his room and rummaged around. He found his Action Man and a Dr. X death ray. When he heard the front door slam, he jumped up. He went down the stairs as quickly as he could, but still one step at a time for they were very steep.

When he came down into the hall he noticed his father’s coat. There was a bulge in one of the pockets. His parents were talking in the kitchen. He edged closer and put his hand in the pocket of the coat. It was a box, like the ones his mother had and said he could not play with. He opened it. Inside was a little heart on a chain.

Steps came into the hall from the kitchen and he turned. It was his father. An expression the boy did not recognize crossed his father’s face when he saw the necklace in the boy’s hands. His father took it out of his hands and put it back in the box.

‘It’s a secret,’ whispered his father, ‘you can’t tell anyone.’

‘Not even mother?’

‘Not even mother.’

His father put the box into his suitcase and locked it. The boy studied him and picked his nose.

‘Is it for her?’ asked the boy. His father raised his eyebrows.

‘Excuse me?’ he said.

‘Is it for her,’ repeated the boy, ‘for mother?’

There was a pause while his father rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

‘Yes,’ said his father, ‘yes it’s for her.’


Abolg now has more than 1000 views!

So I thought I should do something special… But I don’t know what.

How about I just thank all my lovely readers?

Thank you everyone! It’s so encouraging to know that there is someone who reads what I write. I hope you will all enjoy reading in the future  as well 🙂

And a question. Which story did you like best?


And then I’ll post what I should have posted yesterday.

Also, the next update won’t be until Sunday, but after that updates should be back to normal 🙂

The Versatile Blogger Award

The 23rd of December I received an early Christmas present from Scriptor Obscura: A nomination for the Versatile Blogger Award.

Thank you Scriptor Obscura. 1,000,000 times thank you. I am so happy that you liked my blog enough to give me this award. It is very encouraging to receive your kind support. Also, thank you very much for reading my blog. I hope you will enjoy reading it in the future as well.

And now,

The rules:

1. Thank the award-giver and link back to them in your post.

2. Share 7 things about yourself.

3. Pass this award along to however many or few blogs you would like. This way the award is more meaningful, rather than just becoming an endless bloggy chain letter that eventually every single blog in the whole world will have, and some will regard as simply nothing more than spam.

4. Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know about the award.

Hmm… 7 things seem like a lot. How about I write 3? Then perhaps I will not bore you to death before you reach the good part of the post: the new nominees.

1. I once began to teach myself ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics.

Hieroglyphs typical of the Graeco-Roman period
I got as far as being able to read names, dates and a few small typical expressions (for example the equivalent of ‘rest in peace’) before other things got in the way. Now I’ve forgotten most of it again.

2. When I was very young, I once saw a picture of my father from when he was about twenty years old. When my mother asked who I thought it was, I answered:

‘My big sister. With a beard.’

3. I began training taekwondo when I was ten years old.
I stopped when I was 18, but somehow I have kept quite a lot of the muscle.
And now to the good part.

I agree very much with point 3 in the rules. So in an attempt to preserve as much meaning as possible for this award, I have chosen to only nominate two bloggers.
(I wanted to nominate three at first, but then I found out that the third blogger, I wanted to nominate, had already received this award.)

Here it comes.


The two bloggers I want to nominate for the Versatile Blogger Award




Spell-sword, for his stories.


Beverly Penn
, for her well chosen quotes and recommendations for reading.

PS. The third person I wanted to nominate was Novel Girl, for her writing tips. But as mentioned before, she has already received this award.

06 Break Away

It broke off from the rock and fell into the sea. There it was moulded for a thousand years. When it came out it was no longer what it had been. It had legs and arms. Although in the sea it could only flounder when at last it found solid ground it could walk. And walk it did.

It walked for a long time. When it had walked so far that almost anyone or anything else would have crumbled and turned to dust, it found a great tree. Something there wanted to come with it, so it said:

‘Break away.’

It was not sure of the words for it had never used them before, but the other seemed to catch the meaning. The other broke away from the tree, and from then on they walked together.

At some point they thought, as it is, we are two, perhaps we could be more. They knew that both of them came from something else, so they took a bit from themselves and shaped it into one thing. When they were finished, they found they had not only made a third thing, they had also grown on each other and rooted themselves to the spot.

The planets revolved many times before they could communicate with the third thing. It was difficult, but at last the new thing understood the idea which the first thing had conveyed to the second such a long time ago: ‘Break away’.

And the new thing did.

04 Monsters 5 of 5

5. The End

The sky was an untainted blue with only a few baby-clouds in virgin white scattered with a careless hand. The sun had dried the streets. What was mud yesterday was now well-stamped earth. The crowd would not raise much dust when it came. There was no wind to speak of and the air was only slightly chilly. A perfect day for a burning.

Everything was ready in the square. The wood, the kindling, the stake, it was all there waiting for the hour of justice.

A witch had been found. It was she, who had made the smith’s horses ill. Old Man Harold was found dead in the gutters last week; no doubt he was lured outside by the witch.  Henrietta had been devastated. Even Gottfried, who was known as a very god-fearing man and never missed a sermon, had not been protected from her evil. His wife had miscarried for the third time because of the devil worshipper.

She would burn this sundown, and everyone would be there to witness it, mostly to show their contempt of the witch, but also because no better entertainment could be found for miles around.

The first to arrive were the merchants. They set up their stalls two hours past noon with many a joke. They reserved their rivalling for when the customers arrived. The first of these trickled into the square not long afterwards, and of course began to browse to pass the time. If you wanted to be close to the fire, you had to be early. And at this time of year it soon became cold when the sun disappeared.

A group of five boys ran around the square. Two of them waved newly cut dog’s tails about their heads. The others squealed with glee each time one of them came close to hitting them. A few of the browsers looked reproachful, but boys will be boys, and no one said anything.

Soon Henrietta showed up with her husband, both dressed in mourning. Their first stop was the tailor’s, and Henrietta went straight to the most expensive fabric she could find. She whispered in her husband’s ear, and they both laughed. When she came out again she had been measured, and in a week she would come back for no less than five different dresses. Next stop was a stall filled with all kinds of jewellery. It was a small comfort, but at least she would no longer have to worry about money.

Not long afterwards Gottfried and his wife arrived. Many people offered Gottfried their condolences, to lose the chance of an heir, and so soon after the last one. He thanked everyone. It would ease his heart, he said, when the witch was nothing more than ashes in this world and burning in the next. They all nodded their understanding. Gottfried’s wife wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

The couple went on to buy vegetables. Gottfried wanted to buy them now to be sure to get the best ones. In an hour’s time all the good ones will be taken, he said. The woven basket his wife carried around with her was soon full. They began to make their way to the front of the crowd that was already gathering around the stake.

Then Gottfried’s wife stumbled seemingly over her own feet, and everything in the basked tumbled out onto the ground. Gottfried’s wife sat in the dirt for a second, tears welling up in her eyes. Then she rose to her knees and hurriedly pulled down her sleeve over purple bruises. She apologized and at once gathered together all the vegetables and put them back in the basket. Some in the crowd shook their heads, some looked exasperated, Gottfried only smiled; he was such a generous man.

As sundown neared the excitement mounted. When the sun first touched the end of the world, the cart began its journey from the prison. Some villagers had assembled outside the prison to be the first to throw insults and rotten crops at the evil one. She was quite silent and kept her head down. No-doubt she was praying to her false god for protection. None would come. The villagers shouted even louder.

The cart was driven around the square a few times before the witch was tied to the stake, stained with dead crops and spittle. The charges were read aloud, and there was a great answering roar from the crowd. The witch was still silent. The crowd pushed closer, shouting and raging. They threw anything at her they could get their hands on. A severed dog’s tail landed at her feet.

The kindling was lit, and for a while nothing happened. Then a piercing scream rose from the monster’s throat. The ear-splitting pain in that cry released a sigh from the bystanders, and while the sun stained the west in the deepest crimson, satisfied smiles blossomed on their faces.

04 Monsters 4 of 5

4. Idealistic

It was a disaster. The smith’s horses had fallen ill, Old Man Harold died last week and now Gottfried’s wife had miscarried for the third time. Everything was going wrong and the priest could not fathom why. He had preached to his flock every Sunday. Why would the Lord be punishing them so? Unless… There was a particular young woman whom he had not seen in church for some time.

He gathered some men from the village to help him hold her. When he asked the people of the village, the evidence against her was overwhelming. One of the boys swore, he had seen her naked in the woods, Henrietta said the woman had tried to sell her poison and Gottfried remembered that the very same woman had tried to entice him to sleep with her when he met her in the forest. The priest shook his head. He told himself off for being a fool. Why did he not see it before? He should have nipped this in the bud.

He tried to make the woman repent, but she kept denying her sins. The priest sighed. She would have to burn.

It was the only right thing to do.

04 Monsters 3 of 5

3. Demonic

Gottfried sat on the front pew in church with his wife. As the priest promised them all fire and brimstone, his wife stared at the cross behind the altar with empty eyes, stroking her round belly with one hand.

When the priest had blessed them all, Gottfried rose and offered his arm to his wife. She cringed and then quickly accepted it. A little too quickly perhaps, but no one would notice. Gottfried smiled.

When they were home and Gottfried closed the door, his wife’s eyes darted to the whip on the wall. Then she looked at the floor. As Gottfried took back his arm, she trembled.

‘What are you afraid of?’ said Gottfried.

‘I cringed in the church,’ she said, ‘please forgive me.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Gottfried, ‘you know I’m a generous man, I can forgive you. Now fetch me something to eat.’ Gottfried sat down at the table and his wife hurried into the kitchen. She came back with a plate, and knife, then black sausage and bread.

‘And something to drink,’ said Gottfried.

‘Of course husband,’ she whispered and did his bidding. She placed a cup on the table, Gottfried grabbed it. Very carefully she poured ale from a clay pitcher. When Gottfried moved the cup slightly to one side, she followed his movement with clenched teeth.

‘Hurry up,’ said Gottfried, ‘I want something to drink today.’

‘Yes, husband.’ She poured until just under the brim then stepped back and stumbled over Gottfried’s foot. The pitcher flew through the air with a trail of ale. When it connected with the wall it smashed. The rest of the content sprayed out over the room. Gottfried smiled. His wife sprawled on the floor.

‘Please,’ she muttered, ‘please.’

‘Don’t worry my dear,’ said Gottfried, ‘I’ll teach you not to be clumsy.’ He rose from his seat. ‘And this time, I won’t use the whip.’ He smashed his foot into the cringing figure on the ground.

04 Monsters 2 of 5

2. Instrumental

Old Man Harold was not only the oldest man in town, he was also the richest. His only child Henrietta was very aware of this. So was her husband.

And although they led a very comfortable life as it was, Henrietta was rather in need in a new dress or two with matching jewellery, and her husband could use a new horse. But Old Man Harold was careful with his money and would not hand it out to be spent on extravagances.

So they made a plan.

Henrietta bought some sleeping mixture from a young woman. They poured it in Old Man Harold’s drink. When he was fast asleep and everyone else in the village had gone to bed, Henrietta’s husband carried Old Man Harold outside and placed him in the ditch just outside his own door. Then they hurried home through the cold night air.

The next morning Old Man Harold was cold and stiff.

04 Monsters 1 of 5

1. Stupid

Tom had filched a fresh liver from the butchers. He was the best at filching stuff. Will had brought one of his father’s knives.

Jack was the one to place the liver in the trap. The other boys had hidden themselves where they could see him. The first dog had already been lured by the smell, but it dared not approach. Jack backed away from the trap and said some nice encouraging words. The dog stretched out its head as far as it would go, sniffing, drooling. Its ribs stuck out almost an inch to each side. It took a careful step forwards. Jack backed away further, smiling. One of the other boys snickered, but was silenced by an elbow.

The dog looked around. The boys tried to be still as statues. The dog bounded forwards, snatched the liver, and the boys pulled the rope. The dog’s legs were tangled. As it fell, it released the liver from its jaws. Jack jumped at the liver and made sure it was out of harms way, as the other boys overwhelmed the dog and held it down tight for Will. Will grabbed the dog’s tail and swiped with his father’s knife. The dog yelped, and Will held his trophy aloft. Blood dripped from the end of the tail. All the boys cheered.

The dog howled and snapped at the boys. But they held on until it tired. Then they untangled it from the trap. Whimpering and bleeding the dog trotted off while the boys laughed at its stupidity.

Then they set the trap again.


I’ve changed my mind.

I’m too impatient to wait till next Wednesday with posting something new, so I’m going to update Fridays as well.

The next five posts will come with sketches. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea or not, but I thought it would be nice with some pictures…

Thanks for reading 🙂

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