Week 13: Storytelling- The Shoes with the Swoosh

Once upon a time, there was a shoemaker. Unfortunately, the economy was in the middle of a deep depression, and, through no fault of his own, because  he truly was a good shoemaker, he became very poor. So poor, in fact, he thought the bank was going to foreclose on his little shop.

It came to the point that, one night, the poor shoemaker cut out the last of his leather, and found that it was only enough to make one more shoe. He was devastated. So, he resolved to finish his last shoe the next morning. As he was going to bed, he prayed that God would make his last pair of shoes the best shoes that he'd ever made.

The next morning, he woke up intending to finish the shoes that he had started the night before. But they had already been finished. They were perfect! They did not have one single flaw! While inspecting the shoes, he did notice a curious little marking on the side. It looked something like a check-mark, but for some reason he told his wife that he thought it was a swoosh. Even more interestingly, later that day Prince Charming, for no apparent reason, came into the poor shoemaker's store. Upon seeing the shoes with the swoosh, he offered the shoemaker twice what the shoes were supposed to be worth. The shoemaker was incredibly excited, even if he was a little confused.

Nike Air Flight Falcon, source: flickr

That night, after buying enough leather for two shoes and cutting out the pieces, the shoemaker went to sleep and prayed the same prayer as before. The next morning the shoes were finished again! He looked, and they still had that mysterious swoosh on them. When he opened his shop, he found Prince William and Prince Harry waiting outside. They said that they had seen Prince Charming wearing the shoes with the swoosh, and they had to have a pair. They paid twice what the shoes were worth, just as Prince Charming had done.

This cycle continued for some time. The shoemaker would cut out the leather at night, only find them finished with swoosh the next morning. This made the shoemaker into a very wealthy man. After some time, the shoemaker's wife suggested that they stay up and see who was finishing the shoes. The shoemaker thought it was a great idea, so he set out the cut pieces of leather like always, and then he and his wife waited.

He and his wife watched as two little elves crept in and completed the shoes with incredible accuracy and speed. Weirdly though, the two little men were naked So, the shoemaker and his wife decided to lay out clothes for them the next night. When the little elves saw the clothes, they began to dance around happily. After that night, the little elves never came back to finish the shoemaker's shoes. So, he began to pay little kids in the next town 14 cents an hour to complete his shoes. Then, he and his wife lived happily ever after, and the shoes with the swoosh become the most popular shoe that the world had ever seen!

Author's Note--

This story is based off of the story of The Elves from the Brothers Grimm unit. I have pretty much told the story exactly the same as the original. I did add about the stuff with the swoosh, just because I thought it would be interesting to pretend that the shoemaker was selling Nikes. I also didn't use any dialogue, because that is how the original was written. I hope you all enjoy my lighthearted re-telling!

Bibliography--

The Grimm Brothers' Children's and Household Tales translated by D. L. Ashliman (1998-2013)

Week 12: Storytelling- How Robin Hood Met Little John

One cool spring night, Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men at around the fire. As the men waited for their venison to roast, they began to grow restless. Amidst the crackle of the fire came calls from the hungry men.

"Come, Robin, tell us a story," called one.

Another, growing impatient, said, "Ah Robin, if you don't tell us a story to distract me, or if this venison isn't done soon, I'll have to eat Little John to satisfy my appetite." To which the crowd gave a hearty laugh.

"Tell us again of how you came to know Little John," yelled one of the older members of the group.

"If you say so, my friends" answered Robin. "I do suppose it is quite an amusing story. Don't you think, Little John?"

"Why yes, sir, I remember it being pretty enjoyable, at least from my side of things. Would you like to tell the lads, or shall I?"

"You would do it a disservice, my friend. Your talents are better suited to fighting than storytelling. So, where to begin? This was very early in my time and Sherwood forest, and I had only a few men in my company. One day, I grew bored, having not had a proper fight in over a fortnight. So, I told my men to wait in a grove, while I went in search of some stranger to test my strength. I had not gone far when I happened upon a man, guarding a narrow bridge. Well to call it a bridge would be to call Little John the king. It wasn't anything more than a log across a stream. Of course, it was Little John guarding the bridge, and naturally, he wouldn't let me freely pass. I could have easily killed him with an arrow through the heart, if that had been my goal. A fact that Little John often forgets."

"Only a coward would kill a man from afar," interjected Little John.

"Well seeing as I was not going to kill him in so cowardly a way, as Little John has put it, we decided to fight with quarter-staffs on that log pretending to be a bridge. And a good fight it was. Each gave as good as he got. Ah, but my friends, I am ashamed to admit that after some time, our Little John knocked be into the water below."

"A right big splash you made too, Robin," said Little John, struggling to conceal his laughter.

"Yes, Little John. On that day you beat me, fair and square. Well, after I'd pulled myself from the cold water, I called on my horn for my men. They were eager to repay Little John for what he had done, but I would not have it. I, having an eye for men of certain talents, thought Little John would fit in nicely with our band of outlaws.  Ever since that day, Little John has been one of my most loyal and trusted friends, and he is still quite handy in a fight."

"Enough of the sensitive stuff, Robin, you're going to make me cry," laughed Little John. "Anyways, dinner is ready, and hearing about how I beat your ass has given me quite an appetite."

"Don't go and get boastful now, Little John. Or I'll have to humble you! Go on everyone, get your fill!"

"Robin Hood and Little John" by Louis Rhead, source: Wikipedia

Author's Note--

This is the story of how Robin Hood met Little John. I kept the details of the story almost identical to the original. However, I wanted the story to be told from Robin's perspective, since he lost. I also wanted Little John to make fun of him for losing, because Robin is pretty sure of himself. I just wanted to convey how two men could become such good friends after a fight. I hope you all like  it!

Bibliography--

The English and Scottish Popular Ballads by Francis James Child (1882-1898).

Week 10: Storytelling- Iktomi's Folly

I am Inyan. I am the Great-Grandfather. I have watched over these plains from my hillside for too many years to count. I have watched night turn today. I have watched the winter snow melt in the first light of spring. I have seen life, and I have seen death. I am the rock. I was yesterday and I will be tomorrow. I listen to the prayers of the children of the plain. Look now, one wandering child comes to me now...

"Help me, Great-Grandfather! I am hungry and afraid. Please give me some meat, so that I do not starve! Your child needs you!"

Oh it is my son Iktomi. Look at how he cries out to me. In all my years upon this plain, there is not a time that I can remember when a man called to me in such desperation. How could even my stone heart not break for this man? What then shall I do? I will call upon the Great Spirit. For through me, Iktomi's prayer might be heard.

Even now, the sun sets, casting a warm glow upon us. The Great Spirit has heard me.

"Ah I feel the sun upon my face! My prayer has been answered! Thanks be to you Great-Grandfather, for you have taken my prayer to the Great Spirit, and he has listened! How can I repay one such as you though? You, who don't need anything or anyone? All I have is my worn-out blanket. It is not worthy of one as noble as you. It is all I have to give though, so may you wear it upon your shoulders, and take it as an offering of my appreciation!"

I am well pleased with Iktomi's gift. It does little to keep me warm, for I have endured more winters than any man ever will, but he honors me with his attempt. There! He has found the fresh deer that his heart and stomach had longed for! Even as night falls, may it satisfy him as he hoped.

" This night wind is cold. I wish now that I'd never given my blanket away! Great-Grandfather has no need for it. Maybe I will take it back? He won't miss it!"

Iktomi, you fool! You cannot retake what has already been given. You will return to find your meal gone, and your hunger will ache in your belly forever. You will never be full again! And the blanket you so selfishly took from my shoulders will never hide you from the cold. It will pierce you to your very bones. Above all, I will not listen to your cries or be moved by your tears, for you have angered your Great-Grandfather, the Generous Giver. Woe unto you, Iktomi!

Black Hills of the Inyan Kara Mountain, Source: Wikipedia

Author's Note--

This is a story called Iktomi's Blanket. It is about  a Lakotan god, Inyan, which is a big rock on the prairie that warriors would go to pray to. Iktomi is a warrior who is in desperate need of food, and Inyan helps him. However, when Iktomi reclaims his offering, Inyan punishes him. The original is told from Iktomi's perspective, but I told it from Inyan's. I also made Iktomi's punishment a little more severe. In the original, Iktomi only loses his meal, but in my story, I wanted to punishment to be more permanent, and hopefully teach the lesson better.

Bibliography--

Old Indian Legends by Zitkala-Sa (1901).

Week 7: Storytelling-

"I can't believe I've that this has happened again!"

Brer Rabbit surveyed the wreckage of his home. Bark was strewn everywhere. It didn't even remotely resemble a house anymore.

"That damn Brer Wolf keeps destroying my home. I built that first one of straw, then I built that one out of pine-tops. This last one of bark hasn't seemed to fair no better. Why's that bastard got to keep messing with me and family? He ain't got no right to be wrecking my stuff," thought Brer Rabbit angrily.

His feud with Brer Fox and Brer Wolf had lasted as long as he could remember. However, he was beginning to get tired of it.

"Kids," yelled Brer Rabbit! "Where are you?!"

Then one by one, his children began to emerge from their hiding places under the bark.

"One... two... three... four... five... Where's Foo Foo? That little bunny is always disappearing."

His kids told him that Brer Wolf had taken little bunny Foo Foo off into the forest. Brer Rabbit was now angrier than he'd even been in his short, little life.

"If that wolf, for the love of god, shows up at my door again, I promise that I'll kill him. He'll never steal one of my children again!"

So, Brer Rabbit had a new house built. This one had a strong rock foundation and was made with solid planks of wood. He also had a small hiding built for his kids, just in case the wolf found his way in.

Some time later, Brer Rabbit was sitting on his porch, enjoying the day. But then, he heard a commotion up the road. Holding up a hand to block the sun, he saw Brer Wolf running straight for his front door.

"Kids, go hide in the basement!"

Not moments after his kids had been safely hidden, Brer Rabbit heard a pounding at the door. Brer Wolf was begging to be let in, saying that there was a pack of dogs after him. Smiling to himself, Brer Rabbit quickly opened the door to let him in.

"Come, Brer Wolf, I have a great hiding spot for you. Hop in this chest and I'll make sure that those dogs never get you."

He locked the chest closed, and then he went and retrieved his children. He had them put a pot of water on the stove. Finally, he grabbed a drill and began boring holes in the chest.

"Don't worry Brer Wolf, these holes are so you can breathe. There are still a few dogs sniffing around."

Winking at his kids, he asked them to get the now boiling hot water off the stove. He began to pour the scalding water into the little holes that he'd made.

"Don't worry Brer Wolf. You only feel some fleas biting. I promise that it will all be ok!"

He continued to pour the steaming water, until he had fulfilled his promise. Brer Wolf would never bother Brer Rabbit or anyone else ever again. In fact, if you ever visit Brer Rabbit's house, you'll see a wolf pelt hanging up in the back porch.

Brer Rabbit and his Family, source: Wikipedia

Author's Note-

This a re-telling of The Aweful Fate of Mr. Wolf from the perspective of Brer Rabbit. Brer Wolf, as it says in the story, continuously troubles Brer Rabbit by destroying his house and stealing his children. Eventually, Brer Rabbit has enough of it, and kills him with scalding water in front of his kids, which I thought was a little weird. 

Bibliography-

Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings by Joel Chandler Harris (1881).

Week 6: Storytelling- The Ape King's Diary

Dear Diary,

            I have been more insulted in my incredible life than yesterday. While I was at the table dining, I was told by that my position of Stablemaster was no office at all. It doesn't even carry any rank! Can you believe that? How could the Jade Emperor, the supposed Lord of the Heavens, give me such a lowly job? I am Sun Wu Kung. I am the Ape King. I am the Venerable Sun! How dare he?!

            Do these heavenly officials not know who I am? Do they not know that I can travel eighteen thousand miles in one turn of my cloud somersaults? Do they not know that I have discovered the way to eternal life? I have travelled to the Nether World, and I have erased my name from the book of life. Therefore, I have no need to fear Death the Ancient anymore! Do they not know that I have mastered the art of transformation? With just one of my hairs I can summon thousands of myself, and who else can work such magic? Do they not know that I was victorious in battle against the Devil King? Who else can wield Riyu Jingu Bang, my magical staff taken from the Dragon-King and Dragon-Queen? No one can! There are none who are strong enough! On  my mountain, I am a father. I am a King. I am practically... no, I am a god on my mountain! The evening star was right to advise them to show me mercy. For, there are none among them who could defeat me. Not even the Buddha in all his wisdom and power could overcome me!

            Blessed be my family! They showed me a proper reception today. My loyal prepared a glorious banquet in my honor. If only those in the Heavens were so wise. I especially liked those two devil-kings. Their horns were impressive, but there words were even more so. "The Great Saint who is Heaven's Equal" they called me. A more fitting name has never been given! Mark my words, there will be a day when the Lord of the Heavens, and all of his officials, and all the world will bow in wonder at my greatness! I promise you that I, Sun Wu Kung, the Venerable Sun, the Ape King will see to it that this day comes soon. In fact, it is already on the horizon. They will send the whole host after me. They will try, but they will fail, for I am the Great Saint who is Heaven's Equal!

Sun Wu Kung depicted by Yoshitoshi, source: Wikipedia

Author's Note-

I based this fake diary entry off of The Great Saint, a story about the famous Monkey King, Sun Wu Kung. He is extremely powerful, and he knows it. So I thought it would be interesting to explore his anger about being belittled by the Heavenly hosts. Obviously, he is super arrogant, so he doesn't handle it well!

Bibliography-

"The Great Saint"

"The Ape Sun Wu Kung" in The Chinese Fairy Book

Edited by R. Wilhelm and translated by Frederick H. Martens

1921

Week 5: Storytelling- Raja Rasulu, the Chaupur Master

            "Poor Raja Rasulu," thought Raja Sarkap, " he has no idea that I am about to take everything he own, even his head! Little does he know that Chaupur, this game of chance is no game of luck for me! My rat, Dhol Raja, along with my enchanted dice will insure my victory."

    

       Raja Rasulu came in, and he sat himself down to play. "Well Raja Sarkap, what will our stakes be?"

            Feeling extremely confident, Raja Sarkap replied, "On the first game, I bet my kingdom. On the second game, I wage the wealth of the whole world. On the last game, however, I offer my own head as a prize! What would you bet Raja, as a counter to these?"

            "We play for high stakes indeed. On my side, I offer my armor for the first game, my faithful steed for the second, and, of course, my own head for the third. Do you agree to my terms?"

            "Yes of course! I'll even allow you to make the first move. You can even my own dice."

            Raja Sarkap struggled to contain his smile, as Raja Rasulu took the dice from his hand. He knew that there was no way for Rasulu to beat him, so long as his own dice were used. "That arrogant, would be king is no match for me," he thought savagely. As the first game was coming to a close, his faithful rat scurried across the board, upsetting the pieces. So Raja Sarkap won the first game, claiming Raja Rasulu's brilliant armor as his own.

            "Would you like to continue, my friend?"

            "Do not think that one loss will deter me, dear king. I am Raja Rasulu and I am not so easily beaten! Come, give us the dice, the next game is upon us!"

            Tragically, the second game went just the same as the first. Raja Sarkap ordered his men to take away Raja Rasulu's horse, Bhaunr Iraqi. As it was being escorted out, the horse began to whinny at its master. "What in the world is going on," thought Raja Sarkap? "It appears that Raja Rasulu understands the groans of his horse."

            "Remove that horse immediately! He interferes with our game!"

            Looking supremely confident, despite the loss of his faithful companion, Raja Rasulu addressed Raja Sarkap. "Let us continue. Only this time, I request that we use my own dice."

            Not wanting to look the fool, Raja Sarkap agreed. He was growing nervous. Why would Raja Rasulu be so confident? So he ordered that the women of his court to come in and attempt to distract his opponent. It was to no avail, with his own dice, Raja Rasulu won that game handily.

            "Where is my rat?! My destruction seems imminent, and my greatest advantage is nowhere to be seen," thought Raja Sarkap, his eyes revealing the terror in his heart.

            In reality, Raja Rasulu had released a kitten to keep watch on the cheating rat. With his new advantages, Raja Rasulu quickly won back his armor, his horse, and then won all that Raja Sarkap had wagered.

            Realizing that he had lost his head in these games, Raja Sarkap begged for mercy, "Please great Raja, have it in your heart to show me mercy. I vow to never play for another man's head, so long as my head is still attached to its body!"

            "I shall grant your request. However, you must pledge your daughter to me. In twelve years, I shall return for her hand in marriage."

            And so, Raja Sarkap was defeated at his own game by Raja Rasulu. It was the greatest game of Chaupur ever played!

(Ancient Game of Chaupur, Source: Wikipedia)

Author's Note-

This story is based of the legends of Raja Rasulu, specifically Raja Rasulu: How He Played Chaupur with King Sarkap. It recouts the story of how the hero, Rasulu, plays a game of chance with the evil king, Sarkap. Rasulu overcomes Sarkap's cheating, and wins the evil king's head. He show him mercy, however, in return for his daughter. I tried to tell this story from the viewpoint of Sarkap. What would be going through his head, as he started to lose for the first time?

Bibliography-

Tales of the Punjab

Flora Annie Steel, with illustrations by J. Lockwood Kipling

1894

Week 4: Storytelling- Sinbad's Final Charge

            "Sinbad, you've been summoned by the Caliph."

            "What could he possibly want with me? He has never asked for me in this manner before," Sinbad thought to himself nervously. Still it was his duty, so he would do whatever the Caliph asked of him.

            Putting on his nicest clothes, he followed the servant who had summoned him to the chamber of the Caliph. It's grandeur was intimidating. Gems glittered and gold shone from the decadent lamps that lined the sides of the Caliph's meeting hall. A beautifully embroidered rug led to the platform where the Caliph himself sat. The platform was raised four feet off the ground, and the Caliph sat upon a golden throne, a fabulous gift from a King across the sea years ago. Now Sinbad had been here once before, but it was no less awe-inspiring than the first time beheld it.

            Saluting as was customary, Sinbad addressed the Caliph, "Your majesty, I am your humble and willing servant. I will do anything and everything that you ask. Give me my task and it will be done as best I can."

            Laughing, the Caliph stood up from his throne and gave his charge to Sinbad. "Sinbad, my friend you are too formal," his voice booming from his place of power. "I ask little more than you have already done. I would send you as my emissary to the King of Serendib. I would answer his message in kind, and would be most pleased if you would bear my gifts to him."

            As flashbacks of his horrible experiences raced through his mind, he struggled to find the words to respond to the task before him. "I would do all that you ask sire, but please, I pray, ask me not to do this. I have taken a vow to never leave Bagdad again. My voyages upon the open sea have nearly been the death of me no less than six times!" Sinbad then told the Caliph of all his voyages, and his near escapes from certain death.

            Sinbad paid close attention to the Caliph as he recounted his story. "Surely my stories will win his favor, and he will let this task pass from me. Though my heart still longs for the sea, my body and mind know better. It would be better if I never were to sail again. He must allow me to remain here with my health, my family and my fortune!"

            Sinbad would not get his wish. The King was not laughing anymore, seeing that his authority was being challenged.

            "Though your stories trouble me greatly, I do not see any great danger in the task before you. The seventh voyage of Sinbad the sailor will be his greatest. My honor and dignity demand that you do this for me!"

            "Of course your majesty, I will obey all that you command " Sinbad said with his eyes downcast.

            The Caliph, upon getting his way, brightened again. "Gods be with you Sinbad! May the sea bring you quickly there and back again! The last voyage of Sinbad the sailor!"

            As Sinbad left the Caliph's meeting room, he thought to himself, "I certainly pray that this is not the last voyage of Sinbad. I don't know how much luck that poor sailor has left. Who knows if he will return safely home to his family. To the sea once more, and for the last time, I go..."

(The Caravan of Sinbad's Seventh Voyage, Source: Wikipedia)

Author's Note-

This story is a re-telling of Sinbad being ordered to go on his Seventh and Last Voyage. He is charged by his ruler to take a gift to another King. At this point, Sinbad has sworn to never sail again, so he is dismayed at the thought of going on another voyage, so I wanted to imagine what would be going through his mind during his meeting with the Caliph.

Bibliography-

Sinbad: Seventh and Last Voyage

The Arabian Nights' Entertainments

Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford

1898

Week 3: Storytelling- Icarus' Undoing

            Icarus looked out into the distance, watching a red sun set upon the blue water. The horizon seemed so close, so attainable, and yet, so impossibly far away. He had grown up on the island. It was the only thing he'd ever known. His father never told him why they could never leave, just that they couldn't. His heart longed for new and distant places, but his mind knew he would never see that for which his heart longed. Still, he was young, and the hope in his heart would not be diminished so easily. In the midst of his pitiful thoughts, a pair of small birds happened to fly into view. Chirping cheerfully, the birds rode the wind, free of the heavy thoughts that disturbed Icarus' unhappy mind.

            "If only I were a bird! With such wings I could fly from this wretched place. Woe to me that the gods would curse me with legs, chained to this cruel island by such a cruel twist of fate. May the gods grant me wings, that I may escape this prison!"

            Icarus called out to the sea and the sky, knowing that no one was listening to his cries. He was drawn from despair by the call of his father.

            "Icarus! Come quick, my son! I have something to show you. Something that will bring joy to your heart and smile to your lips!"

            Icarus raced home, struggling to contain his excitement. He slowed down as he approached the shop door from which his father had called to him. Drawing a slow breath, he crossed the threshold. What his eyes beheld was nothing short of divine.

            "By the gods," he exclaimed, "what sort of inventions are these, father?"

            "Wings, my son. The hard land and the deep sea are closed to us, but the skies are our freedom. What do you think?"

            Icarus knew his father was skilled, but these wings, of beeswax, reeds and feathers were nothing short of an answered prayer. He fingered them in his excitement. Too forcefully in the eyes of his father.

            "Careful son! Our means of escape are too delicate for such treatment. Now I must tell you, and you must listen, to what I have to say. Let me warn you! Avoid the heavens and the sea, lest your wings be unmade. Take a middle road, my son, and all will be well. Do you understand?"

            Icarus was barely paying attention, so great was his excitement. "Of course, father. You certainly know best."

            Early the next morning, Icarus woke his father eagerly, ready to fly away from the only place he'd ever known. As his father fitted the wings on him, he noticed a nervousness in his father's movements and in his words. So potent was his enthusiasm, that this thought left him quickly.

            "Before leave son, you must remember what I told you yesterday. Follow me!"

            Icarus watched his father flap his wings, and soar like a bird. "Soon I shall be free of my enslavement to this ground," he thought to himself joyfully. Then with a few flaps of his own, he watched the ground drop from beneath him.

            In a matter of minutes, the father and son had left their island beyond the horizon. With the island out of sight and out of mind, the joy rushing in Icarus' veins overcame his father's advise. He longed to touch the sky, so he daringly raced towards the heavens.

            The approaching sun turned his joy into utter horror. The wax was melting! His wings were falling apart! He suddenly felt himself plummeting towards the sea. As the sea rushed to meet him, Icarus longed for his island home, that he had just that morning cursed with his departure.

            "Forgive me father, my freedom was too much for me! I ought to have accepted what the gods had in store for me, and left the flying to the birds! May the world learn from my folly!"

            No one, not even his father, heard his screams. His father, though he searched tirelessly, would not find the son he looked for. And so Daedalus would curse his inventions. What should have brought him so much joy, left him in despair. If only he had never made them, his poor son Icarus would still be by his side.

(The Flight of Icarus, Jacob Peter Gowy)

Author's Note:

I have heard this story of Daedalus and Icarus many times, but I have never heard from the perspective of Icarus. Daedalus invents wings so that he and his son can escape the island of Crete. Icarus flies too close to he sun, and his wings are ruined. So he falls to his death, leaving his father to mourn. It such a tragic story, but I wanted to put myself in Icarus' place. If I had the ability to fly away from the island I was exiled to, I would be impossibly excited. Who can fault this young boy from trying to touch the sky? Sure he should have listened to his father, but who hasn't disobeyed their parents? Poor Icarus pays the ultimate price for his disobedience.

Bibliography:

Daedalus and Icarus

Ovid's Metamorphoses

Translated by Tony Kline

2000

Week 2: Storytelling- Phaethon's Misadventures

The Palace of The Sun- The world is literally up in flames after Phaethon, the son of sun god Phoebus and the mortal Clymene, arrogantly attempted to take the reins of his father's immortal horses. The root all of the trouble of the past twenty-four hours can be traced back to the boy's boasting of his lineage. His mother had this to say.

"He came home in tears one day, because he and his close friend Epaphus were boasting of the godly father, but that stupid Inachus kid didn't believe that he was the son of Phoebus like I'd told him. He was so devastated! What was I supposed to do?! So I told him where his Dad lived, and he left before I could say another word."

Clearly, this young man had issues stemming from lack of father figure in his early stages of childhood. Where else would the insecurity masked by arrogance come from? It is obvious that his distraught mother is not to blame for any of the following events. She merely told her son what she thought he deserved to know. Little did she know that she had sent him to a disgraceful and premature death.

Eye-witnesses that were present at the Palace of the Sun god when the troubled boy arrived recounted these events to me. Winter, with his white hair blackened, was the most out-spoken of those who were willing to talk to me.

"That stupid kid came in thinking he was such a big deal being Phoebus' son. Doesn't he know that his dad has probably raped countless other mortals?! Probably not I guess. Then Phoebus  promised that spoiled little brat anything he wanted. He swore on the Stygian Lake. I What an id-- Wait... I guess he's my boss, so whatever."

(Painting of Phaethon by Gustave Moreau)

No doubt the god regretted his promise as soon as he made it. How could he have guessed that his son would have asked for the one thing he should never get. The son asked to drive his chariot for the day. Phaethon definitely did not have the strength or experience to handle those horses. Not even the almighty Zeus could have managed to drive those horses through the sky. The whole world was witness to what happened next. The young man lost control of the horses and scorched the earth with its flames. Zeus himself was forced to intervene, tragically killing the boy with one of his thunderbolts. Luckily, the world was saved from utter ruin by Zeus' act, but at such a high cost. Phoebus Apollo was noticeably shaken when I spoke with him.

"I... I feel so responsible. Why did I let him do it? I could've done things so differently. He could still be alive... That poor kid was never going to be able to drive that chariot! Why did I have to swear of the river styx? Why?!"

We are left to wonder. Is the young son of Pheobus to blame, or is it his immortal father who will cease to mourn him whenever he finds the next mortal that suits his fancy? Either way, the young boy lost his live, and the world escaped a close call.

Author's Note:

This story is based on Ovid's myth of the son of Phoebus, Phaethon, foolish attempts to drive his father's chariot through the sky. Obviously the mortal boy was unable to handle the massive horses, and he nearly destroyed the whole world in flame. In hopes of saving the world, Zeus was forced to kill him. I thought this story would translate well to a breaking news article, because it would be pretty newsworthy in ancient times. This is a news article based on Ovid's stories: Phaethon and the Sun, Phaethon's Ride and The Death of Phaethon...

Story source: Ovid's Metamorphoses, translated by Tony Kline (2000).

Week 1 Storytelling: The Hare and the Tortoise - College Version

While enrolling for classes, Harry met Todd.

 "I'm taking 30 hours every semester until I graduate. Which should be in less than two years," he said proudly.

"Oh my," said Todd, clearly embarrassed. "I'm only taking 15, but I should graduate on time."

Harry laughed loudly, rolling his eyes. "15 hours?! I'll graduate twice as fast as you! I can't believe you would be so slow!" He called his friends over, who were just as pompous as he was. He got the laughs he was hoping for as he exclaimed Todd's schedule. 

Todd was visibly upset. "I bet I graduate before you!" He blurted out without thinking. Harry walked off with his friends without responding, chuckling loud enough for Todd to here. Todd called after Harry, trying to sound confident.

"You laugh now, but you'll see!"

Some time later, Todd was shuffling through a long line at a local coffee shop. He was typing deliberately on his phone, answering emails. Before he knew it, he had come to the front of the line. Without looking up from his phone, he ordered his usual- coffee with two creams and no sugar. As he reached into his wallet for a few bucks, he saw a face he recognized. It was Harry! They had class with each other for the first two years of school, then Todd never saw him again, thinking he had graduated. All the while Harry had never let Todd forget their little bet.

"Harry, how have you been buddy?" Todd tried to sound excited, but he most definitely wasn't.

"Oh hey Todd," Harry said, looking down quickly.

"What are you doing working here?"

"Uh... well about that, I actually failed out of college. I was trying to do too much I guess.

"Really?!" Todd did a poor job of covering his laugh with a cough.

"So what do you do now?" Harry was not looking Todd in the eyes, who was now wearing a large smile

"I'm actually a senior executive at an accounting firm here in town."

After some more awkward conversation, Todd had his coffee and was on his way out. He paused. Thinking to himself. Then, as he was opening the door to leave, he called across the crowded shop to Harry.

"I guess I won our little bet didn't I?"

(Overload Semester, Source: Cardboard Magazine )

Author's Note-

This story is an adaptation of one of Aesop's Fables: The Hare and the Tortoise. You can find this story at Aesop For Children, illustrated by Milo Winter (2006). This is a classic tale of a swift hare and a slow tortoise, and as we all know the Tortoise wins after the Hare takes a nap midway through the race, being so confident in his victory. As with all of Aesop's Fables, we learn a simple life lesson. In this case: The race is now always to the swift. I chose to apply this fable to some student's idea that they need to race through school as swiftly as possible. Clearly, this is not always the quickest way.

(The Tortoise and the Hare, Source: Wikipedia Commons )

Bibliography-

Title: The Æsop for Children
       With pictures by Milo Winter

Author: Æsop

Illustrator: Milo Winter

Release Date: December 2, 2006 [EBook #19994]