Cabin in the Mist

Mist drifted down along the rolling hills. Among the hills was a cluster of forest and in that forest was a cabin. The cabin was rustic but comfortable with a wildwood as the backyard. Owls hooted in the night, light rain fell on lush green trees. Two small lantern lights were placed outside the door of the cabin, an inviting sight that promised warmth on a rainy night. Inside the cabin was a crackling fire in the hearth. Wooden chairs with cushioning, a small kitchen that had the aroma of baked goods and coffee. The scent of wood smoke and fresh cut wood lingered through the whole cabin. A small black cat was resting by the fire, warming itself against the damp air. It purred softly as it drifted off to sleep. The atmosphere was so calming that the air itself would calm the most anxious person with each breath they took. The calm drifted over the woods, relaxation was easily achieved here.

The outside world had storms and fires to put out but the small cabin had only gentle rain and the sound of gentle crackling flames.

Joseph walked through the forest path, he had been lost for countless days, months and even years. He traveled tirelessly, looking for answers but only finding troubles. The scent of wood smoke caught his attention first then the faint glow of the lanterns could be seen. Joseph continued to approach the cabin. Rain gently tapped against his heavy coat, hair and skin. Joseph didn’t mind the rain or the night but was thrilled to see a warm cabin appear from the forest.

Joseph opened the wooden door and saw the relaxing cabin before him. He sighed, releasing troubles from his shoulders and worries from his mind. The sins of the past dripped off of him like rain from his coat. He took a deep breath as he walked further into the cabin. His troubles and worries began to fly from him like ash in the wind.



            Joseph sat down out of reflex, like this was the most familiar thing in the world. As he sat on the wooden chair by the fire he felt the warm crackling flames and he smiled. Soft music began to play as he enjoyed the warmth and rest. Joseph looked over at the empty wooden chairs next to him. He sighed again then looked down. He appreciated the rest but was tired of traveling alone.



            “Don’t look so down in the dumps” Said a voice. Joseph looked up and saw his friends were all now there, filling the empty seats next to him.

The rain fell outside and Joseph began to cry, it was a cry of relief. “This is all I wanted” Joseph said.


            Joseph traveled, looked for answers everywhere he went but all he needed was a warm place to sit with friends.

Mountain Air

Mountain air flows through me. I breath it in through my nose, in cycles through my veins and I breath it gently from my mouth. The cold air clings to me like skin, wood smoke of the village is my natural scent. I cut my arm and autumn leaves flow out, leaving my body and floating gently through the sky. The leaves float across from the highest mountain tops, they shake loose from the trees like water shakes from a dogs fur.

            From the highest peak the leaves drift down, gently dancing as they go. They travel over the peaks and over the trees. They float down to the roads built by man and visit the lively villages where music rang. The leaves glide on the breeze, ever into the distance and ever downward. The autumn leaves find their way into the stream below. They pluck against the water and that is where they stay. Then the leaves start to move again as they are rushed away by the flowing stream.

            The mountain breaths a sigh of relief as the days grow shorter. Each breath sends a chilly wind down across the land. The people of the village feel the mountain's breath first but the cold breath warms as it travels down, so when the people of the city finally feel the breath of the mountain, it is no colder than a spring day. This is why it is always colder in the mountains.

            The cold air settles on the land, the sun drifts off to sleep and lights flicker in the village. Warm fires are lit in hearth and home. Fire, which was stolen from the gods and given to human kind, is used to help humans fight the dark and cold of night. The relaxing sound of flames burning at the wood mixes with the gentle noise of the wind blowing against the houses.

            The sun is down and the fires are lit. the mountain sleeps, the people sleep and I too, shall sleep.

Absent Fantasy

Words fill my head like a stream, a river of consciousness, the thoughts flow. My waterfall of thought crashes against the rocks of depression only to end there. The thoughts are destroyed and motivation banished. Words mean so little to me these days. I say them and feel nothing. No rainbows and giant trees, orcs and trolls are absent from the strange lands that my mind used to inhabit. The world of fantasy is empty and I am left alone in an empty field with gray skies. When the world of fantasy starts to look bleak then I begin to live more in the real world. My mind and my time are spent longer and longer in the real world. Bills, responsibilities, pain, depression attack from all sides, but the real world has beauty in it too, love, friendship, excitement and deeper sights and smells than my fantasy world ever had. I the rich smell of wood smoke and the feel of an autumn breeze exist in the real world but they are passing experiences. So I hold them tight and steal them away in through the door of fantasy. I grab as much of these experiences as I can but when they get into my world of fantasy they don’t have the same splendor. The imagined autumn tree has become flat and the rich fragrance of wood smoke is nothing but a wisp of a memory.

            My fantasy world used to take a tree and create a forest. One unique tree could even inspire an entire story. The tree could be ugly, strange or beautiful, it didn’t matter. Whenever I saw something so unique that I felt it didn’t belong in the real world I would steal it, I would take it to join the fantasy in my mind. In my fantasy world trees could talk if they were ancient enough, regular people could be heroes or villains, cats were magical, well more magical than in real life, and I could be free.

            I feel like my world has started to mirror the never-ending story. The nothing consumed the Never Ending storybook and destroyed the wondrous creatures that lived there. I feel that the Nothing has come for my fantasy world and it makes me nervous. Though I hope that this absence of fantasy is temporary. Maybe the Nothing didn’t consume my fantasy world, but instead I have become too tainted by stress and the real world to see the fantasy before my eyes. The fantasy creatures that once lived in my world still exist, but I just cannot see them. I miss them. I write about characters like Pumpkin Jack, the Gravedigger, Hobbs, the Vanguard, those hundreds of characters named Joseph and Jack, the lands like Hallows end, Bokro, Dark town and autumn carnival, I write about these people and places but I can’t see them as much anymore. I used to be able to picture them so clearly as if they stood in front of me but now I write about them from memory of what I think they would do and say. I miss them and I don’t know how to return to the worlds I once created. This is not the first time I have felt distant from my stories, but it might be one of the longest times I have gone without writing, or without visiting the fantasyland in my imagination.

            I am sure there are plenty of people who would be confused or not understand the severity of what I am talking about, some might think I am insane and lost my grip with reality, sadly I have not, I know all too well what reality is. To dream makes us human and the capacity for fantasy is one of greatest gift you could have. Children have the capacity for fantasy and the live half in fantasy and half in reality, but parents either choose not to nurture this gift or they straight out destroy it. Some people die but continue to walk through life thinking they are alive. This society is not made for dreamers and artists, this world is cold and hard and you have to look for the good and the warm. Every human has to search for the good in life and some never find it.

            In my opinion, the nicest thing you could do for someone is make them a meal and tell them a story. 

Where my Dreams take me - part 1 Into the Autumn Mountains

Up in the mountains was a forest as beautiful as it was old. In the forest lived a man named Jack. He led a peaceful and solitary life away from the bustling city streets and the loud noises.

The bright autumn forest sat nestled under the big blue sky. Sunlight gently shined down on the land. Beautiful red, orange and yellow trees filled the forest. In the middle of the forest was a clearing. The ever-growing forest surrounded a patch of yellow and green grass, at the center of the clearing was a wooden cabin. An old rustic home with a red roof, a red door and made from the dark brown wood of the autumn trees.

            Wood smoke gently poured from the brick chimney. The smell of wood smoke mixed with the cool autumn air. Jack stepped out of the small cabin and took a deep breath in. the smell of wood smoke and the fresh air of the outdoors invigorated his senses. Jack had shaggy brown hair, scruffy brown facial hair, bright green eyes and pale skin. He wore black pants, white shirt, brown work boots and a green coat that was resistant to rain and wind, perfect for the misty autumn weather of the forest.

            Jack walked over to his pumpkin patch, which he planted beside his house. He smiled to see that his pumpkins were growing nicely. He had twenty pumpkins growing healthy and strong in the mountain air. A black cat named Karu walked up and jumped on one of the pumpkins. “Karuyami the Black cat of the mountains” was her full title given to her by Jack. Jack found her as a kitten when he was building his cabin. She was alone so he took care of her. They had been friends ever since.

            Karu balanced on the pumpkin and stared at Jack. One of her eyes was bright green the other was yellow. Karu meowed at Jack so he would pay attention to her. “Come on now Karu, get off there. I don’t want to loose any pumpkins to your foolishness” Jack said sternly. But then smiled and patted her head.

            After tending to his pumpkins, Jack decided to go into town for supplies. He was a beginner at growing his own food and the first thing he planted was pumpkin seed. So until he learned to grow other kinds of food he would have to make weekly trips into town.

            Jack walked down the side of the mountain. As he walked he thought about how he probably needed to get a car, or a motorcycle or maybe a horse. The walking didn’t tire him out, but each trip to town took a long time to get there and back. He didn’t mind the view though. On his walk down he saw the other mountains, all covered with trees. Most of the trees had changed colors for the Fall. Mountains covered in bright red, orange and yellow. The warm colors were a nice sight and the cold mountain air was refreshing. Jack loved the smell of the fresh air that you can only get high up in the mountains. After walking for a while Jack arrived in Maple town.

Maple town was a quiet town, with nice people and a big autumn tree that grew up taller than the houses. Jack loved seeing how much the tree would grow and change ever time he came down. One of the villagers had planted the tree in their backyard, they must not have realized how big it would get. The bottom of the tree was hidden by fence but the top could be seen easily. It was different colors all at once. The leaves green to yellow to orange to red, all evenly spread out and all on one tree.

            Jack walked through the town and saw people selling their freshly grown apples and homemade cider. He wasn’t in town for that but decided to try a little of each. He paid for the apples and cider and put them in a bag he carried on his back, As he walked around town he felt a sense of peace. He thought he could only feel such peace when he was alone, hidden away high in the mountains, but the people of Maple town were good decent people. He felt comfortable around them, which was a feeling he had not experienced in a long time.

            Jack had a great deal of thinking to do as he walked back up the mountainside with his bag of supplies. He enjoyed living alone in his cottage, growing food and raising Karu, but he also missed having neighbors and friends. Jack remembered why he moved to the mountains, people were always as nice as they seemed and sometimes trusting someone could be a deadly mistake.

But if Jack were to move back into a town or city, it would be Maple town.