Redwall: Alternate Ending

The author's comments: This a part of my book report project, so let me know what you think XD 10 Seasons later: The following is an extract from the annals of Cluny's Fortress by Killconey Ferret. He became recorder once Redwall was taken by Cluny The Scourge. It is the Winter of the Fallen Scourge. Just yesterday, Cluny the Scourge died of an unknown disease. Today we will remember him and his great accomplishments. He brought down entire ports and castles. Cities and caves filled with bears. But his greatest victory? Taking Redwall Abbey. It was definitely his most famous and epic battle and also one that I am proud to have been a part of. When Cluny's funeral is over, his son and heir, Marrit, will take over as the new scourge. Marrit the Scourge, sounds well enough, doesn't it? There are rumors that when Marrit takes over, he will move the habbitants of Cluny's Fortress to a new location because of worsening conditions. Crops are failing and the Sparra warriors attack constantly. We would most likely move to the Port of the Salamander, because of the excellent conditions there. I have prepared a speech for Cluny's funeral as follows: Cluny, I am proud to have been your captain and recorder. You will always be my most respected being, your son second. I bid farewell to an excellent leader and great friend. Though your body may rot away, your spirit will always be with your soldiers. The Cracked Bell is now ringing, so I must end this and take the great sword, Mousedeath, to our new leader, Marrit the Scourge. Farewell for now, Killconey Ferret (Recorder of Cluny's Fortress)


Sugar is the enemy. Fat is poison. Mantras like these run on a loop inside my foggy mind. Staring down the overflowing plate, my heart thunders against my ribcage at the thought of eating blacklisted snacks. Grimacing, I take a bite of the Hershey bar. Recovery is a slow process. Lauren is an undergraduate student … Continue reading LAUREN EVERHART-DECKARD: Fear Foods →

AJ JOSEPH: Guardian

It protects me while I sleep. From the eight-legged reptile under my bed. From the violent poltergeist in my kitchen. From the woman in white with midnight hair down to her feet, who waits among the banana trees in my garden. It protects me, the strange being in my wardrobe. AJ Joseph occasionally writes at … Continue reading AJ JOSEPH: Guardian →


Lily sits on a park bench. Pigeons know her. They cluster… fight… peck. The children recognize her too: the one who feeds the pigeons. Lily giggles, opens her purse, sets it on the ground. “She’s crazy,” the children taunt. Pigeons though, coo, bob… fly into her purse filled with sky. Judy DeCroce is a poet … Continue reading JUDY DeCROCE: Lily →

ERIN GILMORE: With apologies to William Carlos Williams

“I’ve eaten your plums,” he sneered. A fruit fight ensued. Mangoes, a hail of cherries, a ballistic Crenshaw melon. After, we lay prone, exhausted and covered in juice, near the icebox. A non-participant plucked the last plum off the kitchen counter. It was delicious and sweet and cold, he reported. Erin Gilmore is an artist … Continue reading ERIN GILMORE: With apologies to William Carlos Williams →

HENRY BLADON: Being Judged

He says, tell me what you see. What should I say? A handsome pig? A rabbit? I see a mix of Miro and Dali, but I can’t say that. If he thinks I’m showing off, that defeats the object, because I came here to understand my fear of being judged. Henry Bladon is a writer … Continue reading HENRY BLADON: Being Judged →