What Is A Snub?
A snub is a short story - no, not the type of short story that's about one thousand words long or more, an actual short story. Snubs are usually anywhere from one hundred to three hundred words long and don't have much of a story, but are fun to write. This page has some of the snubs I've written over the years.
Table of Stories
The Table of Stories is something like a Table of Contents, but instead of showing the contents of one story, this give links and a list of the various and seperate stories available for you to read.
The Coming of Winter
A short story about preparations for the coming of Winter.
NO WARNING - GENERAL AUDIENCES
Hoppin' OutA short story about a cricket being chased around by an evil little boy. I did this story as an assignment for a course. It's not brilliant and probably not one of my favourites, but the simplicity of the cruelty from the boy, who's not that old, mind, is what I like about the story. You don't understand the unfairness of the situation until you can feel a part of it and know how to describe it.
NOT FOR THOSE WHO DON'T LIKE CRICKETS - CRICKET LOVING AUDIENCES (THE INSECT, NOT THE SPORT)
The Coming of Winter
It was a beautiful site that no one could have ever, ever foreseen. The Sun was just beginning to rise over the outline of the mountains. The joy of the people was palpable as they rushed around, making preperations for Samhain. The Winter was coming - a possible harsh and cold one, but no one cared. Just like with Al Hallow's Eve, everyone was having an excellent time.
The colours of the mountains stretched in hues of greens, blues, purples, with a filtered shade of orange, courtesy of the Sun. Deep mountains rose above innocent foothills and the insistent drip drip drip from the creek attracted the most splendid creatures.
Down in the town, people chatted, laughing until their brains turned to mush at the barman's jokes. Young girls twirled around, their skirts flying in the wind as boys fervently looked at them, trying to pluck up the courage to ask them if they'd like to play. Even the stray cats were enjoying were enjoying themselves as they lapped at the leftover milk that was dumped outside the trade market.
There was a house, on the edge of town, that had seven inhabitants, all seven of which were gardening. The youngest of them Anna, gasped as she felt something cold on her hand. Looking down in wonder, she saw, for the first time in her life, a snow flake! Her Mother watched her and she understood the unwritten meaning: Winter was here at last!
For anyone who's thinking along the lines of, 'What's Samhain?', it's something like the Celtic version of Hallowe'en to signal the end of the Summer and the beginning of Winter.
Hoppin' Out
The cricket edged out from the midst of the thick bushes, a scary forest of green, and looked for a place of shelter. It would've honestly stayed in the only place it found to hide in, but whatever dangers there were in the oustide world, that scary mass of leaves had it tenfold. Turning so as to face north, the cricket hopped as dast as its six legs to carry it and has high as the back two could spring. If this cricket had the ability to sweat, it would be pouring out gallons and gallons of a smelly, salty liquid as it felt its world of safety and sanity close in around it and collapse. Ignoring its better judgment - and earning itself two extra hops - the cricket looked back and saw the userper of a human chasing it. The cricket's squashy insides froze with fear at the sight in front of it, a maniac boy with a big, blonde head and a cold, evil grin. His hands were outstretched in pure, indiluted determination to catch and torture it with a cage and keep it for his own. As the chase kept going and going, never stopping, hardly being able to breathe through his tired out exoskeleton, the cricket became thoroughly tired out. The boy noted the cricket had stopped at smirked at it, jabbering something in his idiotic speak. He pulled up his foot, wagging it around at the ankle as though to show off his new sneaker, and brought his knee to alignment with his ribs. As he slowly started to lower his foot, almost to taunt the panicking cricket, the cricket prayed that a meteor would fall out of the sky and SPLAT! the boy right where he stood. It hoped that same meteor would squash his guts for making it hurt. The cricket had such vengeful thoughts that all fear was replaced with a deathly anger and the cricket advanced as though it expected to beat him at his own game, as though it expected it could erase the existance of a creature so much larger and powerful. As the cricket was only a yard away from the stupid boy, it heard yelling and some inane babbling. Looking up, it shifted its antennae, moving around to find the source of the noise. Surprised with the whole situation, the cricket watched the boy retreat with disbelief and then thanked the heavens because it finally realised what had happened. It realised what a close shave it had had and how it had tried to kill an ignorant little boy. It rolled over what had happened in its head and one particular line kept popping out: the boy's Mother had called him home just in time!
