A Lovely Day in the Woods

short stories collection - a compilation of my short stories.


It was like a fairy tale, rays shone through the canopy overhead, dust glittered in the autumn air, and two children frolicked about. Chirping, the rustling of leaves and the crackle of twigs breaking underfoot could be heard all around. The children, a boy and a girl, ran across the scene.

An attempt to write a story without any serious conflict the characters must face and resolve. A little harder excersise than I planned, but I hope to build on it someday.

It was like a fairy tale, rays shone through the canopy overhead, dust glittered in the autumn air, and two children frolicked about. Chirping, the rustling of leaves and the crackle of twigs breaking underfoot could be heard all around. The children, a boy and a girl, ran across the scene. The boy was in the most disgusting of attire, wearing a little butler’s suite circa 1800s complete with leggings and those annoying napkins they wore sticking out of their necks. The girl radiated, her skin glowed and her cheeks were the perfect blush, her ample bosom and muscular thighs exuding sexual energy waiting to be released. Complementing this was the slightly revealing dress she wore, the shoulders completely bare, a dark blue wonder complete with frills and various other flourishes. And who could forget those eyes, staring into them was akin to seeing the frozen tundra; it was a white intensity all too rare nowadays. They continued to run through the woods, a stream could be heard nearby.

“Oh darling, why don’t we take a little dip?”

“You must not ruin that wonderful dress, cost a pretty penny you know.”

“You always have to spoil the fun, don’t you? Fine, I’ll sit about and eat mushrooms, is that your idea of fun?”

“Understand me, I would love nothing better than to wade in this beautiful rivulet, we mustn’t upset mother...”

“She ain’t my…”

“Do not use such crude language darling, it is not becoming of you.”

“Oh pipe down about your high brow language; I’ll talk however I damn please.”


The girl rushed off toward the cottage nearby, a few pieces of her dress snagging and ripping along the way. The boy got up to catch her, but soon thought the better of it and sat down, staring up into the clear sky. It was a pleasant day, he had not lessons from Doctor or obligations to father that day, and being it wasn’t Sunday, neither to God. He filled his lungs with the cool air, jumped up and sprinted off toward the cottage.

Meanwhile the girl was sitting on the porch watching a deer walk by. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her small crossbow, carefully aiming it and…

“My dear! There you are, I’d feared you had gone to wade about somewhere else, but I see…”

“You numskull, that dear was as about to die! Oh the sweet juices that would have flowed from…”

“Excuse me miss? May I inquire as to your origins?”

“Oh piss on a bucket; you know who I am, just because I want to indulge sometimes.”

“Well, we must be off, mother dear wouldn’t want us to be late for crumpets and tea.”

“Yes, we must be off.”

So the two walked off, following the stream up the hill. The sun had started to set, casting stunning rays across the sky and draping the land in a gorgeous gold. Upon reaching the peak of a hill, the girl turned around and surveyed the valley below her. A trickling sound could be heard, and the fresh smell of pine wafted through the air. She leaned down and picked up an acorn, and promptly threw it as far as she could. A faint noise was heard and a flock of birds erupted from down below, no doubt angry at this most recent disturbance. Turning around, she smiled at the boy and ran off back down the stream. The boy stood for a second, taking in the grandeur of the scene below him, the dips and peaks in the nearby valleys, the brilliant colours of the autumn trees, the ambient noises from the wind squeezing through the trees or the blue jays singing, it brought a slight smile to his face.

“Dearest, are you coming?”

“Yes, yes, hold on a second.”

The boy put his hands in his pockets, turned around and kicked a nearby rock, and watched it tumble down the incline, building up speed until with a loud crack, it split a tree and continued to roll for a time after. He turned around and ran upstream.

“Where are you my love?”

“Toodaloo, toodaloo, follow the sound will you.”

It was a beautiful day indeed.



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©2006-2017 | biafra ahanonu | updated 19 june 2017
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