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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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Read books online » Fiction » Storyteller by Colin & Anne Brookfield (motivational novels for students txt) 📖

Book online «Storyteller by Colin & Anne Brookfield (motivational novels for students txt) 📖». Author Colin & Anne Brookfield



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overcast. It was some time before the stillness was broken from their contemplation.

The dog, cat, bird, horse, bovine and ant then turned towards their guest. There was a pause until the cat broke the silence.

"Human, what was your purpose on Earth?"

Their guest, who until now had listened in silence, suddenly looked up and spoke slowly. They all concentrated with interest as the human confessed.

“I was a farmer, but I know now that fur and feather creatures were the real farmers of the planet; your job was to encourage only the best of life to flourish, and to prevent the numbers of any species becoming excessive. I know also, that the excellence and balance between all varieties is due to your work. My purpose should have been to cherish the Earth and work together with you and in this, I have failed you all.”

“Why do you think you have failed?” asked the bird.

“I am the farmer that the cat has mentioned, and the master of the horse and dog. I used the dog to guard my material possessions and to retrieve all I killed when I was hunting, but when he was old, I considered him useless and left him chained up outside in the yard. I used the horse to ride and then to work hard for me. Then one day, I found her dead in the field and buried her.”

The human bowed his head in silence for a moment before continuing.

“I have never had any respect for insects and killed all I could with no regard for their purpose. I was only concerned about my crops and my own wellbeing. I also considered the cat a nuisance and it was I who put the poison down. I bred cattle and sheep then had them slaughtered for profit.”

The bovine remembered it well, and all the companions nodded knowingly.

“But that is not all is it?” interrupted the dog.

“No!”

“What about our friend the bird?” he said. “What did she ever do to you?”

“She didn’t do anything. I shot the bird and hunted for sport.”

The group looked at the human sympathetically and asked him what he thought might happen to him for all these terrible deeds.

“I know I have been brought to you for a reason. My illness was such that I needed an operation to give me a few more months to be free of pain. The surgeon has halted the procedure because my heart has stopped beating.”

The human then fell silent as if in contemplation before resuming.

“This is a wonderful place of peace and serenity and I would prefer to remain with you, but I know I have to go back.”

“Do you really think you will return to this place when you are finally called?” said the cat. “Do you honestly believe you deserve a second chance?”

“No I don’t but, if I am given that chance, I promise I will never again consciously hurt another being. I will spend whatever life I have left, preserving Nature, which is the real purpose I was put on the Earth; perhaps then, I might eventually have peace of mind.”

The group listened in silence for a while. Then the horse asked him, if all humans were like him.

“No! There are a few humans scattered all over the world who are fully aware of their own purpose of life. I have always thought them to be interfering, but you will meet them here one day.”

“Is there anything you might wish to add?” asked the cat.

“Only that if I am allowed a new beginning and return to this place, I hope you will all be here to greet me.”

I’m sure we will,” she said purring.


The cloud disappeared and the sun’s rays sifted once more through the tree branches.

Then, as the human felt himself departing, a faint voice entered his ears:

“He’s coming round!”

Willow

It is said that now and again, a soul is born that is twinned with another. Perhaps that was the way of it on that early August morning in 1901, as two mothers gave birth almost at the same moment on a lonely Shropshire farm.

In the barn, a Percheron mare snickered over her newly born foal; whilst from the farmhouse came a sound she had never heard before; the voice of a newly born baby. The child was to be christened Emma, and the foal named Willow after its home, Willow Farm.

In these times it was horse power that enabled farms to prosper. Willow farm had sixteen heavy draft horses that were mostly put to the plough, as the farm had extensive acreage to be kept productive.

Willow made his first introduction to Emma when they were both three months old. Her pram had been left for a while next to a fenced field, within which, a foal was cavorting with excitement over every fresh discovery to its new world. Emma had been fast asleep when something cold and wet snuffled over her face, awakening her with surprise to the first meeting with Willow. The foal was equally surprised and jerked his head back over the fence, away from the loud shrieks and giggles of the responding baby laughter.

It was love at first sight in its deepest meaning. After that, nothing could keep them apart.

Emma’s parents soon discovered how much the child and the foal could pester the life out of everybody when parted, so for the purpose of peace and quiet on the busy farm, Willow and Emma spent much of their days close to one another.

As the years went by, they both blossomed. Emma discovered music and became widely acclaimed for her exquisite lyric soprano voice. Willow had also earned much admiration as National Champion in his class.

In the wider world beyond England’s shores, its men and horses were embroiled in the Great War that had started in 1914. In these times, army procurers had visited every farm to confiscate horses and send them to the war zone.

The farm had already lost five horses to the army, and it was felt that the remaining ones would be safe. This was to change one morning in 1917.

Army procurers called again at the farm for more war horses. This caused much distress and anger, and Emma’s frantic remonstrations yielded no change of heart as they led Willow away. From that moment, she never sang another note of music.

Peace was declared twelve months later in 1918. The papers were full of celebrations and eventful pictures from Belgium and France. One picture in particular took Emma’s immediate attention. It concerned a vast holding area for horses the armies no longer needed.

“I must go there immediately!” she exclaimed with uncharacteristic determination.

Although Emma’s request seemed impossible to contemplate, her parents were heartened by the long lost spirit of hope that had suddenly sprung from their daughter.

“Out of the question!” exclaimed her father. “It’s still too dangerous and too much of a long shot.”

“I MUST go. Nothing must stop me!” she screamed in desperation. It was Emma’s mother that interceded on her behalf.

“I know Emma’s reaching for the impossible,” she said to her husband, “but that’s all she’s got.”

Scarcely a week had passed when Emma, in the company of her father, finally arrived at the headquarters of the Commanding Officer in charge of the horse-holding areas at the Somme. There was some resistance to Emma and her father searching such a dangerous area at first, but in the end, her heartfelt entreaties proved too much for the army, and they finally capitulated.

Emma and her father looked around in utter despair at the thousands of fenced in restless and traumatized horses around them. It was at that moment that the hopelessness of their task finally impacted upon them. Finding Willow amongst the restive mass was asking for a miracle, and particularly so, for him to have survived the holocaust.

The task began immediately. They searched from dawn to dusk throughout the following three days, which was made possible, only because the army had afforded them temporary accommodation.

Under the insistence of her father, the search was finally brought to a halt on the morning of the fourth day. He left to thank the Commanding Officer for his help, but when he returned, Emma was nowhere to be seen.

Emma’s forlorn and trembling figure was rendered small and frail against the looming ocean of penned horses surrounding her, whilst in the distance, her worried father had begun searching for her with the help of some soldiers. What happened next touched the hearts of everyone and brought them to silence where they stood.

Clear above the noise of restless equines, the beautiful sound of, ‘Roses of Picardy’ flowed from a magnificent lyric soprano. Emma’s voice reached towards the far holding pen, where other ears were also listening and knew that voice well. In desperate return, the horse screamed back its equine answer with all the strength it could muster, and she raced towards the sound.

At the compound fence, Emma and Willow were finally reunited. It was a scene that touched the war ravaged hearts of the officers and men as they arrived, one that they would never forget.

 

 

Footprints of Love

Clair stood in the hallway looking through the open bathroom door. She was shaking with emotion and was in tears. It was not misery that had overtaken her, it was because she was now released from that condition which had claimed her soul many years before. “I’ve got my Joie de Vivre back” she sobbed, “I feel alive again.”

In the weeks that followed, family and friends had been struck by the seemingly impossible transformation of Clair who was full of life, and back to the one they knew in earlier days. They also remembered that special bond between Clair, her husband Jonathan and their child Julie, together with Julie’s little friend, the honey coloured Labrador puppy; the two of them were inseparable. The puppy had been named Ranu, which was an Australian Aboriginal word meaning, ‘little waters’, a title earned by the pup for the little puddles he used to decorate the kitchen floor with.

That was six long years ago – almost to the benighted day when their world had collapsed into itself. She remembered how the day had started so full of promise. And then came that knock on the door.

The police broke the news to Clair and her husband in the kindest way possible, but she heard no more than the opening words: “There has been a terrible accident…”

Almost a week had passed before she could bear

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