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Another Short Story: ASITPOAP




A Story in the Perspective of A Pond


The water rippled, disturbed by a smooth stone that bounced upon it. Then the stone sank. It made the water turn over on itself and glide to the edges of the pond.

Two small, pale feet were submerged and the creature let out a high pitched screech. It ran out of the water. Another of the same creature, but older, was waiting for it a bit farther away. The water could not reach it, too.

Again, another stone hit the water, yet with less grace than the other. The water plunged and bubbled. The small creature screeched again, ran towards the water, and jumped on it. The coverings on the creature grew wet and the long strands of fur on its head tangled.

The water danced around, clinging to whatever it could of this unknown creature. The small creature beckoned for the larger one to come to the water. It never came near. The creature swam farther out onto the water. Water tumbled over and over, tugging on the small creature.

A call came from the older creature and the younger swam out of the pond. Water dripped from its fur and plopped onto the dry rocks farther up on the edge. The water flowed through the cracks and ran back to the pond.

The old creature grabbed the small creature’s hand and led it away from the water. The creatures never returned and the water grew lonely. It was still and silent, a black velvet cloak in the night. The only friends it had were the mosquitoes and frogs, but they weren’t very friendly to the water.

For many years, the water sat. It did not dance. It did not play. During the winters it froze, then melted again in the spring, though all year round it was cold. Occasionally, schools of fish swam through the pond. They never stopped to say hello.

In the fall, leaves fell from the trees. They glided down with the air to balance on top of the water. Small ripples collided with each other as more leaves fell. Then a smooth stone plunged into the water, creating mini waves that drowned the new fallen leaves.

A familiar screech, yet aged. And another. From the male of the species.

A third noise. This one higher pitched and wild.

For the first time in a while, the water danced. Its only friend had come back. The water swirled in recognition as all three creatures entered the pond. The older ones never left the young one’s side. They held its hand as it swam and squealed. The three pranced about the water; it pranced with them.

The sun began to set and the creatures left the pond. Just for the night, the water was still. But each day, the friends returned. They had the best times together.

Some days the creatures didn’t come to the pond and the water rushed in worry. Storm clouds brewed overhead. Lightning stuck at nearby trees. Small droplets ruffled the surface of the pond.

The youngest creature appeared in the fog. All alone.

It wobbled down to the pond’s edge, balancing on the slippery stones. Water lapped over the small creature’s small feet. It shrieked at the cold. The water whisked to the fact it was not alone, but it worried for the small creature. Those big round eyes, full of curiosity. They should not be left alone.

The older creatures… Where were they?

For a moment, the water was still, despite the storm. The young one grew angry at this. Its small paws splashed the water around. Willing it to play. The water could not resist. It swirled in circles around the creature, sloshing around on rocks and drowning the reeds.

More screeches escaped the creature. She was so happy. She did not notice when she was about to step on a uneven, wet rock. She fell into the pond, making a big splash. Again, the water stilled. Not even ripples from the fall showed.

The girl sank peacefully; A pink hair ribbon caught on a dead branch the only sign she had been there at all.

  • Brohoof 2


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Well, that ended darkly.

I really like the story, though. It feels... nostalgic, in a way, both in what is written, and how it's written.

  • Brohoof 1

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On 11/26/2018 at 5:48 PM, Quinch said:

Well, that ended darkly.

I really like the story, though. It feels... nostalgic, in a way, both in what is written, and how it's written.

Thank you!

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