the hundred and twenty ninth story

Once upon a time there was a tree. Slowly, year by year, she moved closer to a particular rock whom she very much loved. each year, she put out new roots to the left & none to the right.

the hundred and twentyeighth story

Once upon a time there was a seagull. He could reach most of the sky & by diving he could reach the top of the ocean. He always wanted to go deeper.

the hundred and twenty seventh story

Once upon a time there was a hawk. She could see the whole world. Everything she could not see did not exist. Of this, she was sure. She was less sure how the same things began to exist in the exact order they had once before, earlier.

the hundred and twenty sixth story

Once upon a time, you existed. You did some things you were proud of, & some other things you weren't proud of. This is ok. There would be no story without both of these categories. I like you, regardless.

the hundred and twenty-fifth story

Once upon a time, there was a duck. He knew how to dabble & how to swim. He knew very little else. He preferred bagels to pond grass. He preferred warm water to cold. There are more bagels in northern lakes. What to do?

the hundred and twenty fourth story

Once upon a time there was an unfathomable sadness. She knew, deep in her heart, that she wa too much to bear, so she flitted from one person to another, trying to protect them all, not realizing that it was only her leaving that really hurt her friends.

the hundred and twenty third story

Preparing for a trip north to Labrador city (mentioned in at least one story previously typed up) I was looking for a roadmap. Not finding what I was looking for, I went to the library to ask the reference librarian if he had anything. He did a quick check, looked puzzled, and asked me to come back in fifteen minutes or so. On my return, I was met with this wall of a guffaw- the happiest, loudest sound that library could possibly hold, coming out of the most stereotypical, white fluffy haired tweed-jacketed old libarian.... I recovered, he recovered, I walked up to the desk as he settled on a reasonable giggle. I asked if he had found a map. He said that he hadn't but he'd done the research, and could draw me one. He slapped a blank sheet of paper on the desk, put one dot on it, labeled the dot "Labrador city" and then beamed at me, with the happiest, brightest, proudest smile I've seen in a long while.

Note- there are actually roads- there a few in town, and one from that town to another- but nothing one could use to drive from the US to the city.

the hundred and twenty second story

Once upon a time there was a clock who was tired of telling the same old time.

So she stopped.

the hundred and twentyfirst Story

Once upon a time there was a lamp who loved the dark. You think this is a sad story, but it isnot- most lamps spend much of their time in the dark, and even if she could not create that which she so loved, she spent much time with it.

the hundred and twentieth story

Once upon a time there was a map who did not know where she was going.

the hundred and nineteenth story

Once upon a time there was a snake who loved the music of her own scales against any hard surface. No one knew it, but to her, every movement was a dance set to that song.

the hundred and eighteenth story

Once upon a time there was a little green monster afraid of her own shadow. She always faced towards the light. Sure, she didn't see everything, but she was never scared again.

The Hundred and seventeenth story

Once upon a time there was a pond who loved the stars so purely that even on the stormiest nights, her surface remained unruffled in order to give their reflections somewhere quiet to sleep.

the hundred and sixteenth story

Once upon a time there was a garden allergic to flowers.

the hundred and fifteenth story

Once upon a time there was a shy TV that hated to be looked at.

the hundred and fourteenth story

Once upon a time there was a book who was desperatly afraid to give away her secrets. She was sure that, once someone had read her, they would judge her unworthy of the place the occupied on the shelf and would donate her to goodwill. Finally, after years of not being read, the folks at the library culled her for the yearly fundraising sale, where some kid picked her up on a whim. She ended up being his favorite book.

the hundred and thirteenth story

 Once upon a time there was a llama who was always too cold, until one day the rest of the herd presented her with a sweater they'd had knitted from all their extra wool.

The Hundred and Twelfth story

Once upon a time there was a stamp who had been abandoned in a drawer for years. Her denomination was no longer correct, and she had lost hope, but then some single cent stamps moved in, she made friends, and they all went traveling together.

The hundred and eleventh Story

Once upon a time there was a thought. He flew around for years, looking and learning, before finally settling on a head he wanted to live in.

The hundred and Tenth story

is an addendum to the ninety fifth story, written in the comments by the fantastic Andy Moerlein:

Sometimes, when it was an especially exciting shoot, he would use five or even EIGHT cameras to capture the moment. He was good at his job.

The hundred and Ninth Story

Once upon a time there was a train who was just terribly exhausted. Trains don't really take vacations. He talked to some other trains, and it turned out they wanted time off, too. The talked about it. They thought about it. They went on strike.

the Hundred and Eighth story

Once upon a time there was a scarf who wished to travel. She spoke with a breeze, and they figured it out. She let go at just the right moment to catch a gust headed for the train platform. It took a lot of effort, and a lot of careful calculations, but she was able to skip from train to train and made it all over the continent.

The hundred and Seventh Story

Once upon a time there was a pinetree who wanted to flower. He knew he couldn't do it on his own, so he made friends with a whole lot of colorful birds, and that was even better,

the Hundred and Sixth Story

Once upon a time there was a pacifist mousetrap. It would always get "stuck" when a mouse came for his cheese.

the Hundred and Fifth Story

Once upon a time there was a fly who had a very sensitive nose. He ended up joining a beehive, and spent the rest of his life sniffing flowers and honey.

the hundred and Fourth Story

Once upon a time there was a calendar who could not stop thinking of the past.

the Hundred and Third Story

Once upon a time there was a hammer with a headache.

the Hundred and Second Story

Once upon a time there was a song who wanted nothing more than to be sung by a violin. She went to the conservatory in the hopes of making herself some good contacts. She ended up intimately involved with a viola, but never did get close to any violins.

the Hundred and First Story.

Once upon a time there was a whale who was a brilliant mathematician. You might not think that would be super useful for a whale, but he always knew exactly how long a boat would take to stop, and that turned out to be a lot of fun to play with.

The one Hundredth Story

Once upon a time there was a cloud. He loved nothing so much as laying around with the sun on his back, looking down at the hills, and trying to see shapes in the treetops.