“The Troll and the Hero”

Long long ago, there was a beautiful and wealthy kingdom in the north. The old king of this kingdom had a pretty daughter and the princess was old enough to find a good husband. Unlike the other young noble maidens who would be more than willing to marry princes, this pretty princess made a vow to herself: I, the pretty princess of the Northern Kingdom, who always have the best in my life, must marry to a real hero. To prove this, my future husband has to kill all the trolls living in the Dark Forest in Northern Kingdom. Year after year, the princess couldn’t find her hero. The old king was way more than worried and had to broaden  the range of the suitors to ordinary men because the princess wouldn’t make any compromises upon her vow. In this case, the old king pronounced to the whole kingdom that any young men, no matter what status they had, who were able to kill all the trolls in the Dark Forest could marry the princess and inherit the kingdom in the future.

There were two brothers, who grew up together in a small village close to the dark forest, actually knew the secrete of how to kill trolls in the forest. They chose the first sunny night right after snowing so the ground was still covered by thick snow; the younger brother took off all of his clothes, prepared fire beside himself, and brushed honey, basil, olive oil and all the other flavorings on his naked body. The older brother prepared for the lightest, thinnest and most invisible robes in the world to tide the trolls to large stones and giant trees around the fire. They got the secrete of how to make those robes from their family recipe. Trolls, although they were big and powerful but they were definitely not smart enough to escape the trap made by those two brothers. After smell the disturbingly good flavor of the younger brother, all of the trolls in the forest showed up and tried to catch the younger brother as their supper, since they had been hungry for the whole winter. The younger brother successfully persuaded the trolls to fight each other to decide who is the strongest because apparently, one single human would not be enough for all the trolls. Then all the trolls started to fight (yes, they were that hungry) and totally forgot the time. When there were only two trolls left, the older brother showed up and secretly tied the rope to trolls with the stones and trees. The two last trolls were so strong and they apparently forgot the time, then the sun came out. All the trolls left to watch the competition became stones. Following the foot trace they left, those two brothers also successfully found the cave that the trolls lived in. They were shocked by the countless gold and diamonds that the trolls left. Right at time when the two hugged each other for the huge joy, the younger brother sneakily extracted a dagger from his boot and thrust it to the chest of his own brother. “My big brother, you forgot that the princess can only have one husband.” He grinned to the one who is falling gradually due to the lack of vitality. After he wiped his dagger and he started to play with the gold and stones in the cave, he didn’t find out that gradually, his body grew bigger, his hair became longer, his nose turned huge, his finger nails changed to long and sharp ones, and he lost his ability to speak human language —now he is the only troll left in the Dark Forest.

—Ying Miranda Zhang

“My Kind”

I was alone the first moment I opened my eyes. There was a dense forest outside my cave that I made my humble abode. The only living things around that I could talk to were the crows. They were wise and kind, I enjoyed their company.

One day I went down to the river bank, the water was still in the early morning and it was the first time I saw myself. I am not soft like the clouds or smooth like a flower petal. In fact, I am quite hard, bumpy and rigid. I would not be surprised if the mountain was my father.

I grew fast, soon I was as tall as the trees that once surrounded my cave. I say once because sometimes small, funny looking creatures would come and cut down some trees. It used to be that they took only five or six, but now they come in packs and create bald spots in the forest. The birds tell me not to get too close to them, they do not like my kind. That was not a problem because their sharp tools scared me, I only watched from afar. ‘Troll’ is what the creatures have named my kind, a wise crow once told me.

I no longer fit in my cave and I also do not become hungry as often. I eat once every three or four days. I catch large animals and I am glad I cannot talk to them. It would be very hard for me to eat them if they were pleading to be let go. The forest is disappearing and I am worried that the creatures will find me. I ask the crows where I could go and they tell me that they used to see some of my kind a few days walk from my cave. They warn me to stay close to the mountain side, not to wander into any fields and to walk quietly. I will eat tonight and leave tomorrow.

—Samantha Yip

“Oscar the Emasculated Troll”

A friendly, big and warm-hearted fuzzy creature lived amongst the woods. He had very bold features with one big watery eye, a big nose, and a big friendly smile. He was very large in size, with a stumpy block-like body and stumpy wide hairy feet. Sometimes you may find his pants on his short arms and his shirt on his feet. He was oftentimes clumsy to say the least. He was nothing from a typical troll, and his name was Oscar.

In a far away forest laid a town name Leonid, and northern to that was a little stream where the townsmen were forbidden to go. Beside that little stream was where Oscar called home. His home was a little cave Oscar had built himself. He made it by how his grandpa had taught him; it was a very sturdy home. Oscar even made a mat on his doorsteps that said “Welcome, Please Knock”, hoping one day he would have company. For lunch and dinner he would run to the little stream and try to catch fishes, and then he’d set up a fire and cook it.

In the little town of Leonid, lived a little girl named Anna. She was very curious, and often times too curious for her own good. One night, the children were gathered around the fireplace where Grandma Alemo spookingly spoke “when dawn drops, Oscar comes out to town while you are all sleeping, and looks for the children who isn’t sleeping and…” All the children were spooked and frightened, except for Anna. “and eats them!” This intrigued Anna. Anna put her little cape on, got in her little red shoes, grabbed the basket in disguise, and off she went.

Oscar heard a little girl’s voice one sunny afternoon. Oscar slowly got out of his wooden chair where he was initially sun bathing, and jumped up right away to grab his wooden stick and ran towards his home. Oscar laid flat on his back, very still and silent as he hid behind in the corner in the dark. As Oscar was running away, Anna from afar saw the trolls escape. Anna followed and found a little cave with a “Welcome, Please Knock” mat. Unfortunately, there was no door to the cave but being polite she knocked then walked in. As she entered, she walked into the troll head on without knowing because he was so big in size. Oscar having never had company was a little frightened, shocked, but felt a little warmth inside of him. Because of the big fall, Anna felt a little light headed and decided to take a nap. She found a big fuzzy surface and jumped on top. Little did she know, Anna took a nap right on the troll’s belly. Oscar knowingly, stayed very still to not disrupt the little girl.

As dawn started to fall, the townsmen were sent out to look for Anna. They walked past the talking trees and followed her small footsteps and tracked her tracks. As the townsmen were tracking the tracks it lead them to the Oscar’s home. When they approached it, they noticed it was the home of the folktale troll’s home they heard growing up. Frightened, one man led the others and entered the home. As they entered, they saw the a little girl sleeping on the troll. One townsman grabbed little Anna, and together ran all they way back to Leonid.

This was the only glimpse of warmth Oscar got in his lifetime. For the rest of time, Oscar lived a lonely life by himself next to the stream. He was never bothered nor made any trouble. That was the last time Oscar seen little Anna. Anna knew from then on, the tales of Oscar the One-Eyed Scary Troll, were false but she was forbidden to go back and was kept an watchful eye. Anna hoped one day she would be able to go back near the stream, to meet Oscar again.

—MT

Untitled

Once upon a time in a magical kingdom lived an ugly, lazy and bad tempered troll named Meekawl. Meekawl didn’t care much for anything and especially hated taking baths. His body odour could burn one’s nose off from miles away. It was why many of the animals in the forest had run away, lest they end up like the others who had strayed too close to him and dropped dead.

One day, when Meekawl was out hunting for his favourite food, speckled red cap mushrooms, Meekawl noticed something odd. Someone or something, had been digging up the little patches of fungi and devouring them whole. This made Meekawl very angry as eating his favourite mushrooms was one of the only joys he had in life. Mind made up, Meekawl set off to find the one who had dared to take what was his.

A distance away, a princess named Bianca, who was completely doused in a thick cloud of perfume and thus immune to Meekawl’s hideous troll stink, was on her way back to her castle after a day of horseback riding. Feeling uneasy at the complete silence and isolation of the area she had wandered through, she noticed a huge black shadow overtake the light of the sun. Turning slowly to look over her shoulder, she glimpsed a green hideous face, mouth full of what looked like red mushrooms. Before Bianca could open her mouth to scream, a large ugly fist slammed so hard into the face, propelling the monster far away and rendering it dead.

“TAKE THAT YOU DUMB MUSHROOM THIEF!” Roared the owner of the fist.

Gasping, Bianca being a well brought up princess quickly tried to express her gratitude.

“Oh! Thank you so much for saving me! Since you have done such a good deed, I will grant you entry inside my palace despite my no ugliness allowed rule. Aren’t you lucky?”

Turning to glare at her, Meekawl snarled, “NO THANKS. I DON’T LIKE PEOPLE.” Looking down his large bulbous nose at her he sneered before walking back to his forest. “YOU SHOULD THINK ABOUT TAKING A BATH. YOU STINK.”

—Michelle Shieh

“Trolls”

(For the full effect this should be read in a bad Brooklyn accent.)

As he stood outside the restaurant on the corner of 200 and 5th Joe Smart finished his fifth cigarette and made his way across the street to the back door of the shoddy Brooklyn restaurant. He could feel the sweat from his palms make the handle of the briefcase slide through his hand as he was crossing the street, as he walked through the door he was met by the largest Italian man he had ever seen.

“I- I’m here to see Marty.”

Joe stammered. As the Italian stared back at him with dead eyes he said “The fuck are you?”
As Joe didn’t have an adequate response due to his completely unassociated identity with these people he felt compelled to add a,

“…please?”

The man turned from him and called into the din behind him.

“Marty!”

Suddenly Joe heard a

“Yeah, I got some time.”

And was sent through.

Now Joe had heard stories of Marty Troll, what seemed like myths or legends even, he had always assumed they had been the construct of exaggerated gossip, as Italian housewives are prone to create. But what Joe saw before him now slackened his jaw and made all the stories seem that much more horrifying. Standing before Joe in the smoky back room was the ugliest man he had ever seen. Marty Troll seemed to be coated in grease, it started at the top of his head, combing over the few strands of dyed black hair into a cow lick all across his shinning round head, dripping down into the sweat drops that crawled over his face which one could hardly see due to the giant bulb of a nose that was jutting out of it, Joe thought he could smell the sweat seeping into Marty’s XXXL black t-shirt, it seemed like the fabric was stuck to his skin, forming into the deep folds in Marty’s belly. Joe could feel those beady black eyes staring at him but for the life of him he couldn’t shut his mouth, it felt like all the courage he had was seeping out of his gaping mouth leaving him with nothing but the accelerated beating of his heart pounding in his ears.

“There somethin’ in particular you lookin at?”

“N- n- no sir. I- I’m sorry.”

Joe stammered.

The room shook as Marty let out a deep-bellied howl of laughter. This both frightened and eased poor Joe who began to hesitantly laugh along with Marty, although Joe knew now what he hadn’t before, he was unsure of whether he could really go through with this, if this was really what he even wanted. But now he knew, after seeing Marty fuckin Troll he knew he was in way over his head and didn’t want anything to do with this kind of company. As he was trying to think of some excuse to leave the place Marty interrupted his thoughts with–
“So what is it you’re lookin’ for? I see you’ve got quite a nice briefcase in your hands there.”
Marty continued to chuckle through his words, Joe didn’t know what to say so he just nodded vigourosly.

“So tell me, I’m a reasonable man, you’ve obviously come here lookin’ for something, let’s do some business.”

Marty seemed truly genuine with these words, it eased Joe up and loosened his tongue,
“Well- well thank you, really, because you see the thing is, I- I thought I wanted
something, and so I came here, thinking I was looking for something”

“uh-hu”

“But you see that thing, that’s just not me.”

“I see”

Marty responded with a smile, which relaxed Joe even more

“yeah, yeah. It’s just, not. Who I am”

“I understand”

“You do? Really? That’s, that’s really fantastic, because I’m just not- y’know I’m not like this, I’m just-“

“Yeah, you’re a good kid, right? I can see that”

“y- um yeah.”

“I can see that, you. You’re good. I can see you. You think you’re good. You think you’re better-“

“wha- NO!”

“Do NOT interrupt me.”

Marty was glaring at Joe with those beady eyes, Joe unconsciously started backing away until he bumped into the wall. Cornered.

“You come in here, with your weasel fucking face and your god damned briefcase lookin like some punk out of a movie and you’re trying to come to ME. You? You insignificant little fuck come to me in my place of business and try to tell me that you’re better than me? Is that fucking it? What, because you got a damn desk job? Does that make you’re money better than mine? You think I don’t work as hard as you? What, you feel like “this isn’t you” like you got somethin’ fuckin’ better to do? What’s the difference between you and me, huh? I was born into my life and you were born into yours, I grew up this way, this if my family, while you were at college what exactly the fuck do you think I was doing? Even if I fuckin—“
And for a moment, Joe thought he saw something flicker past Marty’s eyes, just for a moment.

“Yeah… Yeah, well you know what. Not today kid. Today is not the day I forgive or forget, you came here for business, so let’s do some business.”

—P. Sehat

“Paspir Forest”

In the Paspir Forest, there once lived a community of trolls. They were peaceful beings and lived happily in nature and the forest thrived. But then the humans arrived, and they did not like the trolls. They hunted them, mounting their heads atop their fireplaces. Finally, the humans chased the trolls deep into the forest and they continued to hunt them for sport. The trolls feared the humans, but not young Snorky. Instead, Snorky would often wonder why the two communities could not live amongst each other in harmony. He longed for the day when this dream would become a reality.

One day, while Snorky was out looking for some fresh termites to add to the morning oatmeal, he stumbled upon something most alarming. It was a little boy. A human boy! And he was trapped in one of the human’s troll snares. The poor, pathetic looking creature was so tiny! Hardly four feet tall, with skinny arms, tiny ears and nose, and not a single hair on his flat belly! He did not look at all like Snorky, who already at fourteen stood eight feet tall, with his long, lanky arms and thick forearms, large ears and bulbous nose, and proud, extended belly, covered in a thick, luscious coat of grey hair. Snorky was already very handsome in his young age. But this boy was simply revolting to even look at. Nevertheless, Snorky dropped his handful of termites and walked up to the boy.

“Please help me!” cried the teary-eyed little imp, “Please don’t eat me! I’m just a little boy!”
Confused by this, but feeling sorry for the poor creature, Snorky untied him. The little boy thanked him greatly.

“I won’t forget this, Mr. Troll! You are much kinder than what I have been told!” And with that, he ran back towards the human village.

Snorky too returned to his own village, contemplating what the boy had said to him, but no sooner had he returned when a horde of humans came rushing into the village. The trolls were stunned, never before had the humans ever come directly to their village. This was surely the end for them.

Atop the tallest horse was a tall, brutish-looking man and sitting behind him was the little boy Snorky had saved.

“That’s him, Daddy!” the little boy exclaimed, pointing at Snorky.

“You there!” called the man to Snorky, “Speak your name, creature.”

“My name is Snorky,” he answered without the faintest quiver in his voice.

“I am the leader of the human village,” the man announced importantly, “and this boy is my son. He says you saved his life and I intend to repay you. You may ask for one wish and I will see to it that you will be repaid. So what will it be, creature? Gold? New born infants?”

“I am afraid I have no use for either of those things, sir,” Snorky answered, “but there is something that I wish to ask of you.”

“Name it, creature.”

“I wish that the humans would not hunt the trolls anymore,” Snorky said bravely. “We do not deserve to be hunted like animals. I believe that it is possible for us all to live together in peace and harmony.”

The man thought about this for a while before answering. “You have surprised me twice today, troll. First you save my boy, and then you ask for peace. This is not what we have come to expect from trolls.”

“What was it that you expected?” Snorky asked. “We have never harmed humans. We are a peaceful folk.”

“I see,” said the man. “Perhaps our ideas of trolls are not all correct. I will grant you your wish of ceasing the hunts, but I cannot guarantee you peace. Our people have come to fear trolls. Our ancestors depicted you as monsters that must be regularly hunted to deter you from coming too close to our village. If this is not true, then you must show us, but it will take time.” And with that, the man kicked his horse and the horde rode off.

The trolls were still stunned, but Snorky could not have been happier. He had a feeling that today would be forever remembered as the start of something new and amazing. He had the utmost confidence that he was well on his way to making his dream come true.

—E.D. Mayo

“Tommi the Troll”

He didn’t want to go to school. But as usual, he couldn’t tell his mother why. It would hurt her too much. He dreaded the walk into town, the winding pathway that brought him closer and closer to the site of his daily humiliation. The children there could be so unkind. He wondered if all parents forgot memories of their own childhood. Perhaps that was why they sent their offspring off to school, oblivious to their fate. Like cows for the slaughter. But not everyone was like him, and maybe not every parent remembered the cruelties that came hand in hand with primary school. Not everyone was stared at on the walk to school, or instantly disliked. Not everyone was teased and laughed at for how they looked. Not everyone was twice as tall as his or her classmates, and not everyone had lots more hair than a human eight year-old should have. No one was as ugly as Tommi. His mother told him time and time again, that he wasn’t ugly, he was just a little bit different and that was what made him special. But the children at school said otherwise. He was her special boy, and she had waited for him for a long, long time. She told him, that sometimes people were slow to see good qualities in others, especially those who were a little bit different from them.

“Have a good day my lovely boy.” His mother said giving him a hug. “Do you have your packed lunch?” Tommi nodded, and instinctively patted his little rucksack. Every morning, his mom made him a quail egg sandwich with berry leaves. It was Tommi’s favorite. And everyday Tommi sat alone at lunchtime. He tried to keep out of sight, sitting on a rock under a tall oak tree in the corner of the playground. But his height and broad shoulders made it very difficult to hide. His classmates would stand a short distance away and taunt him. One boy with blond curly hair was their leader and he would hurl remarks that brought howls of laughter from the crowd. To Tommi, they sounded like a pack of loud and hungry wolves. Later that same day, while Tommi sat alone in the shade as usual, the blond boy yelled out, “How’s your baby sandwich, you filthy troll! Did you roast the baby or barbeque it this time!?” The boy’s words and the children’s vicious grins would cut Tommi like knifes. Tommi didn’t eat human babies. He didn’t know why people thought that. He wanted to be human more than anything else in the world. His mother was a kind human lady, with no children of her own, who had found Tommi as a baby, alone and abandoned in the woodlands behind her house. She had raised him as her son and named him after her late husband, who had been well liked and highly respected in town. Not that it mattered to the children in their treatment of Tommi, or their parents who stared at him as he walked to school.

Just then the bell rang, and the crowd of children dispersed as the boys and girls ran back towards the school building. As usual, Tommi waited until the rest of the children were a little bit ahead, before he got up from his rock. The boy with the blond curly hair was running ahead of the pack. He was sprinting, trying to make it to the heavy wooden doors first. Tommi could see what was about to happen. Tommi watched the blond boy gleefully look over his shoulder, to take pleasure in his lead ahead of everybody else. Tommi saw the little bunch of weeds in the grass that the blond boy was running straight towards without watching where he was going, and because of his great speed, their was no time to warn the boy or for him to change direction. The blond boy tripped on the weeds and went sailing through the air, landing with a loud thud. His leg was splayed out at a funny angle and the boy started to wail. Hot tears flooded down his angelic face that was twisted into a look of sheer agony. All the other children stopped, unsure of what to do. No one moved forward to try and help him. At that moment, Tommi bolted across the grassy playground, three times faster than the little blond boy. None of the children had ever seen him run, because he moved slowly to avoid bringing attention to himself. In truth, he was much quicker than any human child, and was at the injured boy’s side in a matter of seconds. The blond boy looked up at Tommi who knelt over the injured child. The boy’s look of agony was replaced with a look of sheer terror and he covered his face with his arms in a pitiful effort to shield himself from the troll child that towered over him. Tommi rested his hands on the boy’s injured leg, and in seconds it shifted back into a more natural position. The blond boy looked up at Tommi in disbelief, who using the rumored magic of the trolls had healed his tormentor’s leg.

From that day forward, Tommi never dreaded walking to school. His walk down the winding path was met with smiles from the townspeople, whose children included him in every schoolyard gathering. And despite his naturally quick speed, Tommi often let the other children win the games they played together.

—Julie O’Connell

“Fergus Forest Troll”

The tale of Fergus forest troll, is a fearsome one. A mere mention of his name has rendered even the most brave and bold into cowards and fools.

A vicious, heartless creature is Fergus forest troll. With great sharp teeth, beastly eyes and gnarled limbs adorned in tangled thorns. A great many men, sheep, women, goats, babies, cows and perfectly good rose bushes have fallen victim to the wretched wrongs of Fergus forest troll. Though none have spied him for generations, his tale still haunts the villages near the Great forest.

A young girl, Flora, once lived in a village to the east of the Great forest. Tales of Fergus forest troll, hung around the schoolyard as they had for years and years. But none were so brave enough to explore beyond the village wall to sneak a glimpse of the mangled, malicious, dark and deadly Fergus. To Flora, fearsome Fergus was fiction, a fraud, and nothing to halt a fair flower picking over. So, one Tuesday mid-morning, Flora ventured through the village fields, over the village wall, and into the Great forest.

It was just as she was picking precious pink peonies that she spied, just beyond a small stream, a quaint creature, a dumpling of sorts, with squat legs and the floppiest of ears atop terribly pinch-able cheeks. She failed to see him before, what with his mossy coat sprouting dainty buds of dandelions and his marbled grey stone skin. A suitable amount of pleasantries and delightful, yet slightly awkward small talk was exchanged before at last the tiny troll introduced himself as Fergus XIV, the youngest Fergus in the Fjergusson clan. Flora did not wish to be rude, however, she politely proposed that he positively could not be the Fergus forest troll, of the hateful and horrid Fergus forest troll tales.

Alas, he was not, that terrible title belonged to his great grandfather, a rancid reputation which Fergus relentlessly rejects. The fearsome family of Fjergusson had long passed, leaving Fergus to his lonesome, quiet hobbies of stone skipping, flower foraging and wood whittling. Centuries of solo soul searching had made Fergus Fjergusson quite the crafty troll.

Following a lovely lunch of fresh figs and lily leaves, Flora fondly bid farewell to friendly Fergus forest troll and fervently set off on a mission to free Fergus from the sordid slew of rotten rumours.

As years and years passed, Flora, having putting an end to the petty, pernicious tales of “fearsome Fergus”, was now making considerable efforts in the tracing and rehabilitation of abandoned, forlorn and dejected forest trolls.

Whilst Fergus forest troll received tremendous tribute for his debut artistic exhibition: “Forest forms: A sculpted series of winter whittling.”

—Kristian Martin

“Trollsielone’s Dream Come True”

Once there was Trollsielone, who lived a lonely life and had no friends. She was an outcast because she was covered with dead roots and infertile soil. All her mountain neighbors were healthy with plenty of nutrients to sustain tall trees and beautiful flowers to grow. Thus, Trollsielone was always mocked by her appearance and had no one to talk to.

One day, Dally, the excited mountain climber did her usual hike on a rainy day. Trollsielone was patiently waiting for this human to come to her so she can show her how challenging she is. But Dally climbed the mountain to the left of Trollsielone. And when she was done, she went home right away.

One month later, Dally, the excited mountain climber did her usual hike on a rainy day again. Trollsielone was patiently waiting for this human to come to her so she can show her how challenging she is. But once again, Dally did not climb Trollsielone, she climbed the mountain to the right of Trollsielone. Trollsielone was once again disappointed.

One year passed, no human ever climbed Trollsielone. She gave up all her hopes and expectations on wishing that someone would climb her. However, on this day, the weather was extremely beautiful with the dazzling sun. Trollsielone was cheered slightly by the weather and amazed at the beautiful nature scenery of the sky. Just then, Dally the excited mountain climber came by to do her usual hike. However, because over a year she trained herself well with climbing mountains, she wanted to try something challenging for once.

And thus, she decided to climb Trollsielone. Trollsielone was super cheerful and happy. Afterwards when Dally was finished hiking, she said “all this time I never expected this mountain to be the best hike of my life, I guess I was just misled by its scary look, I will definitely come again!”

And with this, Trollsielone was visited by Dally more and more often, and as time passed by, Dally brought more friends to hike too. Eventually, Trollsielone became a popular site for climbers, the government even decided to have a makeover of the mountain so it would look more alive and pleasant through adding more trees and making the soil fertile. With this, Trollsielone became the most beautiful mountain there is and stood out amongst her neighbors. No mountain troll ever mocked at her again, but rather they all wanted Trollsielone as a friend and were nice to her ever since.

—PVCity

“Troll Traveler”

Let me introduce you to Giilk, a tiny but stout creature who lives deep in the fjords that stretch across the coast of Kempi. You may have seen his home in popular travel photos of this unique destination. Every morning Giilk has the privilege to awake to the awe-inspiring view from his little nook that is carved high up the cliffs of the fijord. The sharp peaks are dusted with snow today and Giilk thinks to himself, maybe I should take a vacation this winter instead of turning to stone like everyone else of his kind.

Giilk decided to visit Pico a place known for being everything opposite of Kempi. When Giilk arrived it was everything he wanted, nothing like Kempi. The water was a crisp translucent blue unlike the mercy grey blue that is in the fijords. Pico was also much warmer than Kempi because it had a big potato in the sky that kept the air warm and turned Giilks skin a touch scaly texture.

Giilk also found a community not so different from his friends and family in Kempi except they were the ten times the size of Giilks kind and they liked to make fun of his big floppy ears. Nonetheless, they didn’t mind Giilks tiny stature and so he fit in well. Giilk enjoyed riding the smooth wet rock slides in the forest, catching rainbow birds, and swimming in the water that glowed. Giilk lived in a small hut that floated on top of the water and he always went to his neighbors hut in the morning for a nice chat and some fresh milk water.

But one morning after being in Pico what felt like a lifetime he found everyone in Pico had turned to stone. He was confused because his kind only did that for the winter and it looked as though Pico never had winter. Giilk wrote a long farewell note and left it at his neighbors house incase he woke up and then began the long journey back to Kempi.

He arrived home to find that everything was the same as before and everyone made it through the winter as a stone statue. Giilk was greeted ever so warmly but he will never felt whole again because part of him is sill attached to Pico.

—Laura Krause