There’s a swallowtail at my window. He keeps coming back.

He demands food. He demands water. He demands attention.

I don’t have food. I don’t have water. I don’t have attention.

He calls and calls for me to follow. To help.

But I can’t can’t can’t. I c a n t.

Someone please make the swallowtail leave me alone.

Back to my miserable existence without beauty demanding from me.

The first time the vulture came to visit, Ella thought it a bit odd. The bird landed on the porch railing around 2pm and stayed there for about a half an hour, shoulders hunched and eyes half lidded. Ella snapped a photo of it on her phone, but it didn’t seem to notice, so she returned back to working on her laptop. When she looked up again, it was gone.

The next afternoon, the vulture came back, and landed on the railing in the very same spot again. “Very strange,” thought Ella to herself. “I wonder if it’s building a nest or something.”

After the third day, Ella googled, “why do vultures land near houses,” and learned that they generally traveled in packs and congregated around carrion. But this bird was alone, and only sat there for a few minutes before flying off every day.

Once a week had gone by of the vulture visiting every day, Ella decided to venture outside for a closer look, fully expecting the bird to startle and fly off. Instead, once Ella had gotten within about six feet of the vulture, it slowly turned its head towards her, blinked lazily, and said in an ancient voice, “It’s very rude to keep company waiting, you know.”

Every Morning Beth opened her window to look outside, wasn’t much too look at but her backyard and the woods, her room was in the back of her house. Beth has been through so much in her life and things weren’t going as well for her… but things were looking up and moving forward…. Every Morning she noticed this strange bird in her backyard…. It came to visit every morning…. At first she thought it was strange because she never seen a type of bird like that… but it came at the same time every morning…. And it stayed there for most of the day… eventually it would leave and would come back the same time the next day… she thought it was a blessing in disguise… she named that bird… Blessings…. Blessings came back at the same time everyday… and she figured it was one of her loved ones coming to visit and watch over her that’s when she knew that bird was a blessing in disguise.

I am the greatest hunter in the world, and I've noticed some suspiciously tiger-like activity around my backyard, so I've decided to do something about it. I grabbed my hunting gear and set out into the jungle. As I was creeping around, I spotted it. I scoped in with my rifle, but the elusive tiger escaped me yet again. Darn it! I was having no luck today, so I decided to go in for lunch. My mom made me a tuna-fish sandwich today, which gave me an idea. I decided to set a trap for the tiger, using the tuna-fish sandwich as bait. I set the trap and waited anticipatorily. He must have sensed my presence, because he wasn't coming. Nevertheless, I waited for hours for the tiger to appear. I was sure he would come, tigers would do anything for a tuna-fish sandwich. I decided to wait no matter how long it took for him to appear. "Calvin, time for dinner!" yelled my mom. "Darn it!" I thought. I guess I'll have to check it tomorrow

The days of consistent rainbows have had their whimsical gleams towards our mood! Our garden of flowers and bird houses has grown since last summer, we’ve had time to expand the land. It was just a day planting in and trimmings, an ordinary day till she made her way towards us! A creature of colorful beauty. A horse with a horn, we know it as the unicorn! My friend and I stand by as we watch her gallop so softly and swiftly, smelling the flowers and grazing the grass. We dare not move, just glaring from a distance. Astonished by her beauty, we sat in awe! She's a creature of myths and legends but also a beauty of heaven. In-person, we've witnessed her true majesty and no words could compare. She became a permanent resident of the Gardens we call Unicorn bloom. She comes and goes, hardly ever seen, No pictures ever captured except for in our garden.

As a little boy I used to go out and play in the backyard. I loved building little ‘forts’ for the animals, around the tree, by the fence, and in the middle of the yard. For my 9th birthday, I got a little wooden house that I could build myself. Once I built it, I put it on a tree branch and tied string around it to make sure it stayed. I put some grass and acorns that I found in the house. I sat inside looking out the window watching to see what animals would come. The first time the squirrel came was 2 days after I set it out. I was so happy and excited. I decided to stay inside and watch so I didn’t scare it off. After it left on its own I went outside and looked to see what it left, the acorns were gone and the grass was still there. I put more acorns in and went back inside happy. The next day, the squirrel came again, I assumed it was a different one. The same thing happened, it took the acorns and left, I went to put more in the tiny house. This went on for 2 weeks before my 9-year-old self came to a realization that it might be the same squirrel. After about 1 month, I ran out of the acorns that I put in the house I built. I sat outside under the tree and tried to think of ways to get more. None in the backyard, and I wasn’t allowed to go in the front yard either. Then the squirrel came and climbed down from the house right next to me. It just looked at me and left. The next day, I still had no acorns and the squirrel came then left. This cycle went on for 8 days. Then I finally convinced my mom to go out for a walk with me so I could collect a bunch. And now I’m 20, still live in the same house, same squirrel still comes every single day. I’ve named her Della. She loves the acorns and I’ve even painted the house, and added more houses nearby. Occasionally more squirrels will come to those houses but everyone seems to know which one is Della’s and no one but her goes to that one.

One fateful Autumn afternoon, I saw a little worm in the garden. It wriggled around, digging through the soil. I thought it was helpless, so I placed a over ripened tomatoes I could not eat. Squirming inside, it chewed on the fruits soft flesh.

The next day, I saw over a dozen worms nibbling on the remains if the black tomato. I didn’t want anymore to arrive, so I covered up the group of worms.

Yesterday, I saw hundreds of them in the garden, across the pavement, in the grass, and even one or two on the roof. Their pink bodies jiggled around, like the mindless worms they were, as I was completely dumbfounded; “Why were all these worms here?” I thought.

Today, I was caught of guard. Thousands of worms across my yard made it look like my lawn was moving. I sit inside while they’re out there: the endless hoard of slimy string. Seeing them climb through the cracks in under the door, in between the windows, and through the floor, I am getting completely freaked out. Where do I go?? Should I leave my house???

During the past few hours, I’ve been hiding in the attic, taking peaks downstairs; I see them on the floors; on the walls, leaving a trail of goo; creating little holes in the sofa; and all over the kitchen. I cannot stop the slow, snake-like stampede.

Right now, I decide to leave the house because it is not safe; They even got to the attic. I garb the largest rain boots I can find, and I trudge downstairs. The worms crunch and thrash out beneath me.

Heading outside, I wade through the knee deep layer of living worms. Brushing against me, My legs are coated in their mucus. The orange rain boots I found do little to keep the worms out, and I squish a few of them that traveled to my boot.

Looking back, I see my house and the hundred or so foot radius of worms that surround it. Slowly, my house levels into the earth drowning in the endless abyss of worms. I cannot even fathom what just happened and if my insurance will even cover it.

He wouldn’t leave. Everyday the same fluffy, black kitten would come to her window. She would never hesitate to open it and welcome him in.

She was washing last nights dishes. Loud 80’s music played as she swayed from side to side. Her sweater sleeves were pulled up and her brown, curly hair pulled back. She used a spoon as a microphone and sang the lyrics as loud as she dared. She finally spotted the small bundle of fur in the window. “Oh!” She rushed over and lifted up the window. He mewed in greeting. “Hi sweetie! Don’t you look as dashing as ever?” She gently lifted him up as he let out a loud, but croaked purr. She held him as she grabbed him a bowl. She had bought special milk just for him. She didn’t know what happened to his mom. He lapped it up as she finished the dishes. Once they were both done she picked him up and twirled about the room as he purred. She rubbed her cheek against his soft fur and held him close. “You’re all I need.” She looked sadly at him. He meowed then reached out his little paw to her face. She bent her face down so his paw was resting on her cheek. “I don’t need him, not anymore.” Unpacked boxes lay around the room. Newly packed boxes sat by the door. Her ex’s sister would come pick it up tomorrow.

He came a little earlier today while she was baking a pie. She gave a tiny nibble, he licked his lips. After the pie was done she laid down on the couch. She hadn’t gotten around to moving it into the correct spot yet. The kitten laid down against her stomach. He slept splayed out with his tummy exposed. She wrapped her arms around him and softly kissed his head. He stretched his head closer to her in response.

It was raining and she was getting worried. She hoped it was only him staying dry. She stayed up as late as she could waiting for him. He had never missed coming before.

It had been two days, she had just started to cry again when she heard a quiet meow. She whipped her head up to see him. She smiled and ran to him. He was limping and really dirty, his coat was soaked. She wrapped him in a fluffy blue towel and gave him some warm milk to drink while she grabbed some bandages. She held him next to her for hours. She brought him to the vet who said he had most likely been hurt by a human. But that if she took good care of him he would be okay. She brought him home.

Paint was everywhere. She was practically covered in it. She was painting her room a soft cinnamon color. He slept soundly next to the brushes. When she finally finished she cleaned the brushes and turned on the bath. He awoke at the sound of running water. He followed her into the bathroom and slept on the soft carpet as she soaked in the bath. He woke up after a few minutes and jumped up onto the edge. She gently washed the dirt from his fur. He purred loudly and lovingly. She picked him up and held him close. She started sobbing into his fur. She wrapped him up in a towel and after changing into some clean clothes grabbed some hot cocoa for her and some warm milk for him. She dried him off and started one of her favorite movies. He sat comfortably on her lap as she stroked his fur.

He never left her again and she never left him.

Lincoln turns towards the direction of the unsettled overgrown ryegrass. A white face of fur was staring at Lincoln, growling.
“Nice dog, good dog,” Lincoln starts to slowly back away. The dogs starts to creep closer revealing it’s full body.
Lincoln eyes widen, “You’re a big dog”.
Suddenly, another vicious looking dog lunges at from behind Lincoln- knocking him down.
“AHHHHHH!!!!,” Lincoln screams as he covers his face from the dogs’ bite.
“GET OFF ME STUPID DOG!” He punches the dog square in the nose as it whimper’s away. Lincoln recoils and grabs his forearm- sensitive to the touch. He backs away using his right leg as a shield to prevent the dog getting closer. The dog looked smart enough though, one wrong move at and Lincoln would surely punish him for it. Lincoln falls to his back and the dog immediately takes advantage lunging at him. However, the white faced dog intervenes sending the attacker flying. With surprise, Lincoln locks eyes with the white faced dog as he gets up and closes the car door.
From the window he watches the two dogs go at. Each exchanging bite for bite. Lincoln rolls down the window and shoots at the ground a couple feet from the two. The white face dog stares back at Lincoln as the other runs away into the grass. The white faced dog sniffs the ground before making his exit behind the rye.

*I just realized I didn’t write what I was suppose to write. At the same time I didn’t want to just delete it all, so imma just post this

At first, I thought it was a hallucination. Human brains are capable of incredible things when pushed to the limit, and ten days stranded in the middle of the ocean would push anyone to the brink of sanity. I’d woken from a restless sleep under the blistering sun to see a seagull perched on the end of my raft. I blinked and unconsciously picked at the peeling skin on my shoulder as I tried to figure out if the creature was real without scaring it off. It was poised on the bow of the boat like an ancient ship’s figurehead, beak facing forwards and beady eyes staring into the blue nothingness. As I leaned closer, the gull finally turned and faced me. Instinctively, as if I were beckoning a beloved cat, I outstretched a hand towards the bird and he quickly took off into the sky. The sudden grief of being alone again was momentarily more crippling than the constant, looming fear of death. I laid back on the raft and let myself waste precious energy on crying.

The next morning, it was there again. It’d settled in the same spot, on the bow of the raft, but this time it was facing me. I hardly breathed as I locked eye contact with the seagull. Minutes ticked by. Finally, desperate to feel some kind of connection to another living creature, I dared to talk.

“Hi buddy,” I whispered, my voice scratchy. The bird tilted its head, regarding me. A few tense seconds passed before it defecated on my boat and flew away. I couldn’t help but emit a laugh at this turn of events. It was a short bark of a laugh that hurt my throat, but it reminded me I was still alive.

On my twelfth day stranded at sea, the seagull was late. The midday sun was beating down on my red, blistered scalp and I’d just about given up hope of seeing it again, when the flapping of white wings caught my attention. My friend flew to its usual spot and it took me a moment to realise what the strange movement by its face was; there was a small fish thrashing it its beak. The bird dropped the fish onto the boat and I stared at it, waiting for the prey to get eaten. Instead, my friend watched me, tilting its head and I remained seated. Slowly, a strange realisation swept over me and I reached for the herring. Had the gull caught it for me? As my hands clasped around the writhing fish, the seagull took flight and left me to my meal.

I awoke the following day with an immediate and overwhelming sense of unease. Something was wrong. As I cautiously gained consciousness, I realised; I wasn’t moving. I’d become so accustomed to the constant bob and sway of the boat that stillness felt entirely foreign, like when you’ve been on a trampoline for so long the ground suddenly seems wrong. As my eyes adjusted to the bright light of the day, a gasp caught in my throat; I was on a shore. My raft had washed up on a beach and finally, finally, there was earth beneath me again. As I disembarked my boat, I saw a familiar figure out of the corner of my eye.

My friend stood proudly on the shore, head tilted and eyes watching me rejoin the world.