Six Word Story

by Ernest Hemingway

For sale: baby shoes. Never worn.

The Princetta

by Anne-Laure Bondoux

The waves lapping at the rocks made their perpetual murmur. Above the ship the sun was still shining, but down below, the crew was crushed by the weight of a terrible truth: in both the Known and the Unknown Worlds, living things could die, suffer, love, hate, struggle or surrender. Only nature itself never changed. Despite tragedy and torment, there would always be the waves, and the sun would always rise and set.

Hush

by Donna Jo Napoli

The day goes on in slow, deliberate work. The people pull together, letting go of their grief. Either these are callous folk or they know a bottomless well of courage.

Metapatterns

by Tyler Volk

Borders function as bulwarks against forces of disruption. They cloak creatures and their internal parts against the ravages of the exterior world--the ionizing, lysing, dissolving, jolting, combusting, dispersing, bursting, rotting, eating, and crushing world. Borders hold at bay all that would destroy the difference between being and environment; they prevent universal homogenization.

Blood Roses

by Francesca Lia Block

Daisy said, "You're not fucked up, Yummy. Your world is fucked up. It is very fucked up. It is a very, very fuckity uppity world and you are just responding normally to its psychotic vibe. Do you hear me? Because this is very important. This is something you need to know in order to change."

My Name is Mina

by David Almond

The birds were silent. The air was still. I climbed higher in the tree, to where I could look down into the nest, and there they were, three of them, lying so prettily in the pretty nest. They are bluey-green with brownish spots and they are absolutely beautiful. Bluey-green and speckled brown and beautiful. I almost cheered, but I stopped myself. I wanted to hold the birds in my hands and praise them, but of course why should they take notice of me? Why should they care what I might think? But I say it now anyway, deep inside myself: "Well done, blackbirds! You are extraordinary! You have created the most beautiful things in the world! You have created new universes."

The Hunger Games

by Suzanne Collins

Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when again they open, the sun will rise.
Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.

Deep in the meadow, hidden away
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.
Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.