perhaps
frost stories
As she slept, the cold whispered stories who painted themselves all over the windows of her home. When she rose the next morning, she stared at the images, certain that she knew them. She could almost retrieve the memory before the sun reached the window and burnt them all away, but not quite.
(images and words copyrighted by Jennifer Shelby)
messages in bottles
disguises
colour
hobgoblin trees
you can find these stories on my facebook page as well!
raised by trees
company’s coming!
the infestation
the tree swing
The tree sat down in the swing, feeling uneasy. Trees were the ones that held swings, not the ones doing the swinging, but the boy insisted he try it. The tree lifted up its roots and let go of the earth just for a moment and soared through the air on the swing. It gulped and stopped, eager to feel the reassuring weight of the earth on its roots again. It was good to try new things, but once was enough for this tree.
copyright Jennifer Shelby
Jennifer Shelby 