My Little Poplar Novels & Stories

***** much love from me Little munchkins

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the small town of Maplewood. The air was heavy with the scent of blooming lilacs, a stark contrast to the turmoil that brewed within the heart of ten-year-old Alex Carter. He sat on the worn steps of his porch, his small frame dwarfed by the grand old oak tree that had been a silent witness to his laughter, his dreams, and now, his sorrow.

I say with a head bob. “That is what I need to hear!” He laughs. “But…is it really shit?” “Yes! It’s dated and boring. Sure it is pretty, but there is no excitement or pop! You are in Los Angeles! You need POP!” “Then make me POP!” He says, then immediately covers his mouth and his eyes go wide. “I could, but I don’t think it would be professional,” I laugh. “I-I didn’t mean…” he says. “I know. You want the party to POP, not your champagne bottle,” I chuckle, indicating his crotch when I say champagne bottle.

Who's there. A giggle echoes. - Who's there? Who's there? Who's there?- the voice repeated, mocking. "Ryan, it's a girl's voice." - Peek-a-boo! - one girl, peeking from behind a tree, says. - Hello little one. You scared me. Where are your parents? - Parents? I don't have parents. - Are you here all alone? - this is my house - she says, coming out from behind the tree, in an old and torn dress.

He said to me as he pointed at each of them. "These ones are saliceta or you can just call them willows." "Oh, I've heard of them." I said. "Yeah, you probably watched that cartoon about the willow tree." He said and I shook my head in response. "I didn't but I have an idea of what a willow tree is." I said. "It's beautiful." I added. "It is." He agreed with me. "That one is a populeta and querceta. They're also called poplar and oaks." He said, still pointing.

“I’m enjoying an efficient victory.” “There has been no victory.” Poppy lifted both little hands toward me. “Mommy, look. My hands are still small. That means I need a healing day.” “All four-year-olds have small hands.” “I’m also a little pale.” She wasn’t lying. And that was the problem.

Of course, Scarlett could tell without looking since she had developed sharper senses since giving birth. When she turned her body around to place the tray on the counter, the little girl looked up at her mother with a pout on her face, her big hazel eyes gleamed in anger when her tiny arms retreated in defeat. In her toddler mind, she thought her mother was being unfair, why did her brother get to have it when she could not? Yes, Scarlett had given her one earlier, but one was not enough. The cupcake was so tiny she was able to finish it in four bites.

Regular witchery, fine, whatever, but this is completely nuts to think that someone can read your thoughts and make a whole spin of tales from them. I sigh heavily. "Thank you, Ms.?" "Just call me Patty, Luna. Thank you for your time." With a curtsy, she is off in a scurry down the hallway. What a sweet woman. That's it, I officially adore Patty and I have to speak with Damon about keeping her around me more often. She reminds me of what I've always envisioned my mother to be. She's petite with the most beautiful gray hair that's tied back in the neatest bun I've laid my eyes on. She has smile lines that reach to the corners of her eyes. Something about her calms me.

The water was magically warm. He kept singing into my ear. Every little thing is gonna be alright. It's gonna be alright now. My ever dreaded weakness rolled down my cheeks. I did not stop nor wipe them away. Mykel acted as if they were not even present, to begin with. Every little thing is gonna be alright. Woke up this morning Sit with the rising sun Three little birds pitched by my doorstep singing sweet songs