A Further Word About A Story


(This excerpt from “The Cookie” is the intellectual property of Forgotten Lore Publishing, llc) – continued from A Word More About A Story.

The supervisor and messenger had a growing lead on him, but the worker ran as fast as he could, to keep them in sight.  The supervisor seemed to have decided where he wanted to go; and all the others followed him, as he ran to lower and lower levels of the mine.  Gradually he and the messenger moved farther ahead, until they were lost from view.

The worker, and the cookies behind him, kept running after them; in the hope they were going the same way.  Soon he came to another branching of tunnels, and slowed to a stop; unsure which path to take.  He decided to take the path which led right and continued that way.  Before long though, he realized none of the others followed him.

He was extremely tired now, and stopped running.  He walked along the tunnel at a slow pace for several minutes, then finally laid down to rest.  After a time, he felt somewhat less tired.  He got up and continued walking through the tunnel, until he reached another branching of the way.  One path continued on to his right, while the other sloped down slightly and went to the left.

He decided to travel down the sloping branch; and as he followed this tunnel he discovered the path became quite steep.  It also stretched a long way.  Gradually the tunnel opened into a large chasm, and the path leveled off and continued to his left.  The path was now perhaps three feet wide, with the tunnel wall at its’ left.  The right edge of the path ended with an abrupt drop off, which was deeper than he could see.

He continued along the path for some time, until he noticed something moving in front of him.  As he drew closer, he discovered that he’d found the messenger and the supervisor.  They huddled close to the floor, and were evidently digging into the base of the tunnel; where the wall and the path met.  They did not seem to notice the worker, when he arrived behind them.

He stopped to watch them, without speaking.  He heard the messenger saying, “Are you sure its’ here?  This is the third place you’ve tried.”

“This is about where Cocoa told me to look for it,” the supervisor said.  “If it is not here, we won’t have anything to fight back with.”

“Fight back?”  The damaged cookie said.  “But the witch is so powerful!  Is there really any way we can fight her?”

“I’ve been told these jewels are the source of her power,” the supervisor said; as he continued digging, with his hands.  “If she can use the power of these stones against us; then why can’t we use that same power against her?”

“She is a witch!”  The messenger said.  She knows many secrets; she has lots of servants, and she knows magic!  If she catches us plotting against her, we’ll all die!”

“I’m not dying without a fight Clome.”  The supervisor said.  “Besides, with just a little luck, she won’t find us; and we have someone in the town who has promised to help us learn how to use the Wizin Stones.”

“There is a townsman that knows witch’s magic?”  Clome asked.  “Who is it?”

“One thing at a time,” the supervisor said.  “First we have to get out of this mine.”

“No,” said Clome.  “First we have to find the stone.”

The supervisor grunted, paused his digging, and then said, “I believe we have done that part.”

He stood, and showed something in his hand to the smaller Clome.

“You found it.”  Clome said.

“Yes.”  The supervisor replied.  “It was just where Cocoa said it would be.”

“And now you can give it to me!”  Clome said in an odd voice.

The supervisor stepped back in shock; as Clome’s body began shifting, changing, and growing.  The watching worker quickly realized that this was the witch!

So did the supervisor, who continued backing away rapidly.  Her stark transformation ended quickly; and while she stared at the clothed cookie before her, the small worker had time to get a good look at the witch.

She was very tall; at least twice the height of the cookie who cowered in front of her.  She shrouded her towering frame in a long, black, cloak or dress; the worker wasn’t sure which.

A dark red shawl draped around her shoulders, from which long tassels hung; that looked a lot like misshapen fingers.  She had a great mass of long and tangled, coal-black hair; which had many streaks of gray in it.

What terrified the worker the most though was her menacing face.  It held a large pair of dark, red-rimmed eyes, which were deeply set and close together; in her triangle-shaped head.

Her nose was long and narrow, and curved down slightly, at its’ tip.  Her thin, colorless lips were almost invisible, and  her mouth seemed small, but could open wide: revealing a full set of uneven, razor-sharp teeth.


To read more of the story, follow this link:  A Story’s Beginning Ends.


Respectfully Yours,

J. A. Stubbs, Editor-In-Chief

Forgotten Lore Publishing, llc