Update and a Microtale

Hi, dear bloggers! I just wanted to let you know that I will be absent from my blog for a week. I’m spending the next week in Vienna, and I will celebrate the New Year’s Eve there! I can’t wait! 🙂 

Before I go, I decided to post the cutest photo from my previous trip, to Ireland and Northern Ireland, and a microtale that I made up for it. Wish you all great holidays! :*

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Sea Happiness

He jumped. The sea spattered around him. He had just an hour, or even less, before the sun set and the boring half of his day began. Then the sea would suddenly start to feel cold, and his limbs too weak to swim as fast as he would want to. Even the fish won’t taste good.

A long time ago the curse was spoken. He was to spend the day as a seal, and during the night he would take the human shape. An annoying curse, indeed. What was one supposed to do as a weak, two legged creature who doesn’t know how to enjoy the simplest and most beautiful things?

Microfiction Challenge: The Red Tree

writingThis is my first time participating in Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge. When I saw the promt picture, by the artist Virginia Frances Sterret, I just had to make a story for it. I love it! 🙂 Just look how pretty it is:

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And now, here’s my story:

The Red Tree

Ayla had the magic beans and a plan.
Yes, she would have to defeat the giant, but she was ready for it. She had several tricks in her sleeve. With a wide smile on her face, she planted a bean in the ground. Ayla could already picture the gold and the jewels. No more hard work, no more rags, no more, no more…
It took just a few seconds for the tree to start growing. Did the ground move, or was it just her legs shaking?  Yes, the tree grew, but something wasn’t right.
A strange plant appeared before Ayla’s eyes, weak and wobbly. Its stalk was a dark, rotten red, all twisted and turned.

“You freed me,” the plant spoke. “So now, I will grant you three wishes.”

“Three wishes?” Ayla was confused. “But you’re supposed to take me up in the clouds, to the treasure.”

“Treasure in the clouds? I’ve never heard of such a thing…”

“Well, not exactly in the clouds… Anyway, I didn’t free you. I planted you,” Ayla was getting a bit annoyed. This was not a part of her plan. “And it’s genies who grant wishes. Or goldfish. Not trees.”

“That’s quite judgemental of you,” the plant sounded offended. “What do you know about trees, anyway?”

“I’m sorry…” Ayla sighed. “I’m just a bit surprised. Three wishes are a great deal!”

“I’m not sure I want to grant them anymore…”

“Oh, please!” Ayla wasn’t ready to give up on her dreams.

“Fine. What’s your first wish?” the plant sounded friendly again.

“Well, I want to be rich!”

“I try not to be prejudiced, but this is such a human thing to wish for. Riches. Always the riches. Unfortunately, I can’t help you with that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just a tree! Money doesn’t grow on trees!”

“Well, what can you do?”

“I can grow fruit.”

A number of different fruits appeared. Yellow pears, blue grapes, red apples. Ayla sighed. It was obvious now that things don’t always turn out like the stories tell. She picked an apple, sat comfortably underneath the tree and tasted it. It was very good. She might never become rich, but she could at least make the best of what she had.

Twittering Tales: Abandoned

writingI came across Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales challenge and it seemed so fun! So, I decided to participate. The idea is to write a Twitter-lenght story (140 characters or less). Here is my story for this week’s prompt image:

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Golf clubs were abandoned. When it came, money couldn’t save the rich. Wealth gave them no power anymore. They tasted the same as the poor.

(139 characters)

Six Word/ Two Sentence Story Combo

writingI like writing some short forms of stories that I’ve encountered here, on other people’s blogs. I think they are very fun to write, and great for practicing your writing. Yesterday, I wrote one six word story, and then the other followed… And in the end, I thought they went well together. So, this is a two sentence story made of two six word stories. XD

The topic is: Fake it ’till you make it.


Face smiled, but eyes were frowning.

Mask on, game of life begins.

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Image Courtesy of Pixabay.com

Sunshine Blogger Award

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I was nominated by the wonderful Misty from mistysbookspace for the Sunshine Blogger Award. Thank you so so much! I just want to say that I won’t be tagging anyone this time, since I’ve done an award post recently, but I really wanted to answer Misty’s quesstions, so here it is. 🙂 If someone wants to do the award, just say it and consider yourself nominated! The rules are as follows:

  1. Thank the person who nominated you.
  2. Answer 11 questions set by the person who nominated you.
  3. Nominate 11 bloggers to receive the award and write them 11 new questions to answer.

Now, let’s get to the questions!

1. What is your dream vacation location?

Oh, I love to travel, so anywhere I have never been before is great for me. Lately, I’ve really been wanting to visit Iceland. It seems so perfect!

2. When would you say you became a reader?

I think I’ve always been a reader. My parents read to me when I was a child and it all kind of started from that.

3. What was the last book series you completed?

The Mistborn series, by Brandon Sanderson. I’ve been getting into fantasy again this summer. I think summer is the perfect time to read those long books and series you’re a bit afraid to start when you know you won’t have as much time to read as you would want.

4. What advice would you give to newcomers to the blogging world?

I’m not sure I’m the right person to give advices to other bloggers… I’m not even sure what I’m doing here. XD I guess the most important thing is not to consider your blog as something you have to do. It’s supposed to be fun, and to makke you happy. Not stressed. So if you need a break – take a break. It’s not the same as giving up. You’ll always be welcome back. 😉

5. Do you have any unique talents? If so what are they?

You mean, besides being the most quiet and awkward person in the room? XD I’m not sure…

6. What character do you wish was a real person in your life?

Any vampire from the Vampire Chronicles. So that they can make me a vampire, too, and I could live forever. I need someone willing to do that, of course, or I could end up dead. So I’ll have to think a bit more carefully about this… Any suggestions? 😛

7. Aside from reading what are some of your other passions?

Lately, Instagram… XD But, seriously, I love to write. Just about anything, as you can see from my blog, as well as working on some longer works of fiction. Also, I’ve recently discovered I like doing yoga. I’m still a complete beginner, but I’m getting better. XD

8. What is your favorite genre?

I think I love the classics most, though I refuse to consider classics a genre (they belong to different genres). Maybe Gothic fiction, in all of it’s shapes and forms.

9. Who is your favorite author?

Just one? :O Mary Shelley, probably.

10. What is your least favorite genre?

I like to read different genres… I think anything can be done great. But I don’t really read  contemporary romances… As I said in an earlier post I don’t mind romance as a part of the book, but if it’s all the book is about, I probably won’t pick it up.

11. What fictional world do you wish you could be a part of?

Most books that take place in a fictional world have a pretty dangerous setting. That makes them interesting to read, but not so good to live in. XD So, I’ll have to go with the expected answer and say the magical world of Harry Potter. I’d definitely go to Hogwarts! 🙂

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The Road to Grandmother’s House

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If you do as I say
One healty and alive
Will welcome you there.

He told her there was just one rule, as gods always do.

Red was determined not to do the same mistake as everyone before, even though she knew the odds were not in her favour. Pandora always opens the box, Eve always bites the apple, Orpheus turns to look at his lovely wife, and all of Bluebeard’s wives unlock the forbidden door.

The rule was simple. Red had to follow the road to her grandmother’s home, without making even a slightest turn aside, and when she enters the little house, her grandmother would welcome her there. She would be alive and well, in her rocking chair and not underneath the wet, cold ground.

Red’s steps were quick and determined. She believed in herself and could feel happiness enveloping her entire being. Then she saw beautiful flowers on the side of the road and thought how lovely it would be to bring them to her grandmother. She was careful as she picked them not to step from the road, not even with the tip of her shoe.

“The flowers are much more beautiful there, farther into the woods,” a deep voice said.

Red raised her eyes and saw a big wolf staring at her with piercing, green eyes.

“Oh, no, I can’t get off the road,” she said proudly. It was not so easy to fool her.

“Where are you going?” the wolf asked, and his voice was so warm and so kind that Red couldn’t refuse to answer.

“I’m going to my grandmother’s house. She died, but I was promised she will be alive again.”

“Don’t you want to see her sooner then? I know a way through the forest, it’s much shorter,” the wolf said and Red wanted to follow him anywhere.

“No, no!” she replied. “I have to follow the road.”

“Then, you can always run,” the wolf said. “Do you want to race me? I will go through the forest, and you run along the road. Let’s see who comes first!”

Red was suspicious, but she couldn’t find anything wrong about the suggestion. She would still follow the road, no matter what the wolf does. And he seemed so friendly, so she didn’t want to offend him.

“Fine! Let’s race!” she smiled.

The wolf nodded and disappeared among the trees. Red ran and ran, as fast as she could, thinking of the grandmother and thinking of the wolf. She wanted to win but when she came the wolf was already standing on the doorstep.

“You see, I know a much faster way,” the wolf seemed proud.

“Well, I admit, you won,” Red laughed. She wasn’t sad for losing, because in the end, she had also won. She had come to her grandmother’s house, and she followed the road. Magicians, genies, gods… They were never cheating. All those who failed before her were just silly people, with no power of will.

Red knocked on the door, but no one answered. She was a bit surprised to find the door unlocked. She entered the house and called for her grandmother, but no one replied.

“What happened?” she heard the wolf ask.

And then she remembered the exact words of the promise, and she remembered the wolf greeting her on the doorstep.

If you do as I say
One healty and alive
Will welcome you there.

Versatile Blogger Award

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Thank you so much Dear Kitty for nominating me for the Versatile Blogger Award! It really made me happy. 🙂

Befora I start, I just want to say that I’m sorry for being so inactive lately… I really like this blog and the lackk of time for it bothers me, but I’ve been quite busy and now I’ve even gotten sick. Anyway, the blog is still alive, and I will try to find more time for it. 😉 Now let me get back to this lovely award nomination!

The rules for the award are:

  1. Thank the person who nominated you
  2. Share the award on your blog
  3. Share seven random facts about yourself
  4. Tag 10 bloggers with less than 1000 followers and let them know they have been nominated

It’s really hard to talk about yourself, isn’t it? XD Anyway, here are some random faccts about me:

  1. My favourite season is Autumn. So, yes, it’s my time of the year right now! 😉
  2. I really, really, really want a pet. Once I get my own place, I’ll definitely get one. Life without animals is just so boring… 🐶 🐱
  3. I’m currently writing two novels.  Sometimes I’m inspired for one, and sometimes for the other, it’s quite crazy… My brain refuses to be organised when it comes to writing, though I’m actually quite organised when it comes to other things.
  4. I’m currently working as an apprentice teacher of Croatian language. In Croatia, we have a one year apprenticeship, then an exam, and only after that we become “real” teachers.
  5. I’m a Slytherin. – On every quiz ever. I took the Pottermore quiz twice and both times I got the same. I thought I would be a Hufflepuff, honestly. But now I’m kind of proud of being a Slytherin. 😉
  6. I have a poster of John William Waterhouse’s “The Lady of Shalott” in my room. I love the painting and the poem.
  7. I love to travel, and I collect postcards. Some I bought myself, on my travels, and some I got from my friends or family. 

Well, I hope thore were at least slightly interesting… I’m not sure who accepts awards and who doesn’t so, of course don’t feel like you need to do the post. Anyway, the people I tag are: Nicole,  Misty,  sinisterdarksoul,  Miguel Olmedo Morell,  Miracle,  Julia,  llady literary,  Anita, Katha,  bookwormhay,  WovenEclipse

Colours of Good Morning

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It was time for school, and the boy left his home with the bag on his shoulders. The boy. That’s how he came to think of himself. Yes, he had a name, and not a bad one, but not everyone knew it. As he walked through the farmer’s market each day, people would call after him. And they called him boy.

“Hey, boy, do you want some sweet strawberries?”
“Little boy, a few lovely apricots to take to school!”
“Come, boy, buy an apple! You now what they say about apples and doctors!”

The word started to sound right to him, though a bit disheartening. That was what he was. A boy. Just a boy. A nobody. Most people were nobodies, pretending to be somebodies by wearing a name. Only a few really became more than what the people in the market place called them. The rest – just numerous boys, girls, ladies and sirs. The boy wanted more than that. He hated monotony. He yearned for something exciting, something new, something magical. As he passed through the market, it seemed painfully dull to him, despite all the orange apricots, red apples, yellow lemons and green cucumbers. Colours were nothing in comparison to what he hoped for. He dreamed of dragons, fairies, and evil forces that had to be defeated. He wished to be a hero, brave and kind, loved by all.

Suddenly, an old man caught his attention. The man was wearing dirty, shapeless clothes, and begging for some money. He seemed completely grey, standing not so far from the colourful market. Some people passed by, but no one seemed to notice him.
The boy had nothing in his pockets. He wanted to become a hero, but now, he couldn’t even give some change to the poor old man. He felt embarrassed.

Well, the boy thought,  I may have no money, but at least I’ll show him that I see him. I will show him that I care.

With the widest, kindest smile, the boy turned to face the old beggar.
“Good morning!” he greeted him.
The old man raised his eyes, and the boy saw that he was smiling. The lines on his face started to fade. The old beggar jumped from joy, but when his feet touched the ground, he wasn’t an old man in rags anymore. His clothes were clean and white, and on his now golden hair proudly stood a royal crown.
“Magic!” the boy gasped.

A single “good morning” turned the beggar into a prince.

The Climb

Yes, I’ve been neglecting my blog for some time… The beginning of the school year is hard for teachers, too. XD Anyway, here’s something unpolished, a part of something I’ve been working on. I like this little detail about one of my characters. Meet Bastian! 😉


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If the door is impenetrable, there’s always a window to use.

That became some sort of a motto for Bastian. Climbing the walls was something he was very good at. It took him some years to become an expert, but he flattered himself that he had a natural talent for it.

The walls on the house were made of white stone, which was fashionable among rich people. Unfortunately, the stone was not left crude. It was completely smooth. Impossible to climb. Rich people liked everything to look sleek. There were no pipes or drains on the building’s facade. There were, however, large windows on the ground floor, because bright rooms were also fashionable. Those windows made of impenetrable glass, and connected to an alarm. They were, also, climbable.

Bastian first stepped on the bottom edge of the window. The windows had frames, also made of white stone, and were richly ornamented. The frame was quite narrow, but Bastian was good at keeping his balance. He was also tall. Just barely, he was able to reach the upper edge of the frame. As he held the frame firmly, he put his feet on the side of the frame and cautiously climbed up, pressing his feet at the frame and walking horizontally. Soon, he was standing on the upper edge of the frame, feeling proud of himself.

Who else could pull this off, eh?

He now had to reach for the first floor window, which was also huge, and quite far away. The difficult thing was not falling off the narrow edge. Bastian learned how to be careful. He was doing this for years. He started with simple houses in poorer neighbourhoods, and then gave himself bigger and bigger challenges. He was only caught once, when he was fifteen, to his parents’ great embarrassment. He didn’t actually steal anything, so they just had to pay a fine for his breaking in. It helped that they were influential people.

The window proved easy to open. The family wasn’t expecting anyone to break in though this window. It didn’t even have an alarm. Bastian entered the house. He was swept by the feeling of accomplishment. He still wasn’t sure how this unusual hobby came to his mind. Why did he love to break into random houses? Partially, because it was a challenge. He also liked that it was completely illegal. Breaking the rules made him feel strong.

Well, I’m done here. Off to my next stop.


Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

A Message in a Bottle

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#MiracleChallenge : Week – 11

Challenge No : 4

Write a Story/ Poem using Prompt Theme –

A MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE

You write it down
And cast it far away,
Hoping someone will find it
Somewhere in the sea of words,
In the atmosphere of versed clouds.

It often starts simply
With an image, a memory,
An emotion long forgotten,
Turning soon into something more,
Fictional but true.

You bare your soul,
And offer pieces of your mind.
Sometimes the feeling’s good,
Inspiration like a warm hug,
Other times it makes you weep,
Art born from pain once felt.

And you write on,
Cry out your poetry in silence,
Each letter a scream,
Each word laughter,
And you cast it in the air
For someone to find and read –
Your message in a bottle.


Image courtesy of Pixabay.com