Arwen Dove

“Little Guy in the Garden” by Arwen Dove

My grandfather was a peculiar old chap. Every morning he’d wake up, get out of bed and sit down on his favourite chair with a cup of milk tea, nothing too unusual really. But if you’d grown up with him as I had, you’d start to notice the… well, the other things. As a kid, I had admired my grandfather, almost like a fan would admire their favourite celebrity, that sort of relationship. I never once doubted him when he said there was a pixie living in our garden. But now, he says that something bad’s going to happen, “and it’s gonna ...

20 likes 22 comments 22

Read story

“The Tears a Mother Sheds” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #97

Pressing my hand to the windowpane, I breathed out, trying to relieve the thoughts of my daughter from my mind. My breath stilled upon the glass, fogging it so that the trees surrounding my little cottage were a mere shadow of time and reality. For that’s all they were, all they ever were really. This window was a reflection of time, though I didn’t realise it until…I took my hand away from the window, leaving a handprint in the fog. I watched as singular drops of water began to condensate and slowly roll down from my handprint and cont...

37 likes 22 comments 22

Read story

“Someone to Believe in” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #94

I had always been the timid one. The person that always sat in the corner nibbling on her biscuit and never said a word. To anyone. I enjoyed the soft breeze brushing past me, the first rays of morning sunlight bathing on my face. I longed for a time where I could be me, when I didn’t have to hide myself from these people that seem to laugh in my face every time I dared to speak up. Which I never did of course, for I didn’t have the strength to look darkness in the eyes and send it fleeing in the opposite direction. I would say I was ‘f...

38 likes 18 comments 18

Read story

“'I Will'” by Arwen Dove

I looked around at the party streamers and balloons scattered around the empty room. My hope for a second chance, for new beginnings had died away as the crowd of people had left the room, each murmuring their thanks. I’d stood at the door, shaking the hands of each of my guests, trying to distract myself from the growing pain inside my heart. Now that the people were gone, It was back to just me, an empty room and a memory. I thought back to the days before the party. The days where my sister twirled about the room, this room, singing songs...

34 likes 26 comments 26

Read story

“A Different Blood” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #92

It was war. The slashing of swords and the hammering of fists echoed in my ears as I hid behind a rubbish bin in a dark alleyway, hidden from view. I was a good guy, one of them, someone who supposedly saved everyone from evil.  But I wasn’t brave enough to fight, I was too weak to hold a sword. Too cowardly to overcome my fears of battle. I heard voices approach, so I hid further into the shadows. Two figures emerged and stood directly in front of me, they didn’t seem aware of the fact that I was there, but I could see them, smell...

41 likes 24 comments 24

Read story

“Twelve Years in a Tower” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #91

Okay, so I didn’t actually mean to stumble upon that book, but I knew it was there. Always there, watching me, waiting for the right time to strike. And no, I’m not exaggerating.My name is Emmeline Whistle, and I am a detective. Well, sort of anyway. Ever since I was a baby, Mummy and Daddy said they could see that some day, I was going to do something wonderful. And I am, I mean, I will… It just hasn’t happened yet. Mummy says it might happen when I’m older, but I’m twelve years old already! If it doesn’t happen now, then it ...

45 likes 46 comments 46

Read story

“Through the Memories we Go!” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #91

Alice and Tiger sat on the ground of the second floor of the Fairytale Library. They each held a book, with their left hand holding it in place, and their right hand positioned to turn the page. They sat there, the two of them, turning the pages of their books simultaneously, and reading the words from right to left, rather than from left to right. This by itself would have been unusual in most circumstances, but what was most puzzling about this scene was that neither Alice, nor Tiger were reading any words, for the pages were blank. N...

47 likes 58 comments 58

Read story

“The Settler with a Blue Toe” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #90

There once was a village called Nottingham. The villagers were all just as poor as the next, so that one may think they had nothing. And yet, one would be wrong. The villagers of Nottingham were rich in their own way. They were full of hope. One could feel the hopeful sensation when walking past the village gates, which were always open to visitors. The people of Nottingham were very happy, despite their poorly state; They ate what little food they had, slept in their little heather beds, and were merry and made music. It was Christmas ...

39 likes 11 comments 11

Read story

“Listen to The Phoenix” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #89

I jumped.Arms outstretched and pointing towards the darkened sky. Drops of rain tumbled down onto my face, forming a pool of water just above my chin. A drop of water fell onto my lips and it tasted salty, like the sea. Like tears.My breathing was laboured and I was unable to distinguish the thunder from the sound of my own heart beat. I was wet from the falling rain, or was just my sweat and tears? I was unsure of everything now. I was only aware of the heavy breeze rushing past my face as I fell, down, down, down. Tears burned into my fles...

27 likes 9 comments 9

Read story

“A Song about Snow” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #88

My story does not begin with the likes of tiaras and royal balls. Rather, with a song.It started one day when there was a ‘knockety knock’ on my front door…You see, I was singing at the time, my sweet, lovely voice floating out the window. I hate to brag, but when I sing, it’s like hearing an angel singing from the heavens. This was the song I was singing;“My life is full of fantasies,My life is filled with wonder.Everywhere I look I see, a smile…A smile to me!Once, a little bird told me in a lullaby,That dreams always do come true!But, my l...

24 likes 9 comments 9

Read story

“The Pranksta#5803” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #87

I hate pranks.I hate anything to do with laughter. I hate fun.And I hate April fools’ day.This is precisely why my plans to avoid being pranked on April 1st were going to come alive in exactly 10 hours, 11 minutes and 4 seconds. It is time for April fools-less day to arrive. I didn’t go to school or anywhere today, I spent the whole day planning for tomorrow, April 1st, April fools’ day. Last year, my friends had pranked me by putting Charlie’s pet rat in my school bag. The year before that, they mixed worms with my spaghetti. But ...

30 likes 12 comments 12

Read story

“The way with Nature” by Arwen Dove

I thought the signs on the grass read: ‘Do not step on the flowers.’I thought the signs on the footpath read: ‘Do not pick the flowers.’I thought the signs that were scattered all around the neighbourhood said: ‘Leave the flowers alone.’But clearly I am mistaken. Everyday I watch as one of my friends slowly wilt away. From a little human running across our delicate petals, or a bigger human plucking us from the soil to give to the person beside them who already holds a fistful of our roots. I wonder if it gives them pleasure, to see us suffe...

23 likes 22 comments 22

Read story

“La Città in Movimento” by Arwen Dove

“That’s the thing about this city, it never seems to go anywhere useful,” moaned Duetoruinme. I roll my eyes. So, you may be reading this story and be wondering what on earth we are talking about. The thing is, our city, called; ‘La Città in Movimento’ (which is Italian for ‘The City in Motion’ by the way,) always, well… It moves. One hour it’s in California, the next… Arabia! The only problem is, as my friend here Duetoruinme, (pronounced due-to-ruin-me,) just stated; La Città in Movimento never seems to go anywhere useful. “Well,...

20 likes 4 comments 4

Read story

“The Story which is Not a Story” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #84

NOTE:This is not a story.A story is a collection of words and phrases that come from a certain part of your brain called an imagination, though it seems not everyone has an imagination. Take Mr Whitfield for example; he is a mean and bossy maths teacher who NEVER laughs, and therefore has no imagination.A story needs imagination to be a story, but this is not a story.To be clear, everything mentioned in this collection of words and phrases is true.Just as true as seeing fairy in your garden w...

29 likes 28 comments 28

Read story

“'We do not go to the Water'” by Arwen Dove

Submitted to Contest #83

Rātia raced the wind through the trees, climbing over the long brown branches effortlessly. Her wavy, long brown hair danced behind her and her soft laughter merged with the sound of the waves. In her eyes lived the reflection of the sea, a swirling blue mass with an edge of white. The island was Rātia’s home. She was the only human on the island, and she had never met another human in her life. Her friends were the animals that lived there; the monkeys, the elephants, the dolphins and the whales. A small lizard lived on her shoulder, she na...

25 likes 6 comments 6

Read story