short story – JBWriting

Sunday May 17, 2026 – wrote 198 words on the current manuscript to bring it to 8,393

Monday May 18, 2026 – wrote 4 words on a children’s story.

Tuesday May 19, 2026 – wrote 68 words on a children’s story

Wednesday May 20, 2026 – opened the manuscript but no words written

Thursday May 21, 2026 – wrote 349 words on a children’s story

Friday May 22, 2026 – wrote 138 words on a children’s story

Saturday May 23, 2026 – forgot about the manuscript unfortunately, but that’s only because life is very full with lots of wonderful experiences lately.

Following is a small story I wrote just for fun. I’ve written a few little stories about this character because while I’m in a season of raising babies a lot of my time goes into managing the home so they can grow up in a tidy and peaceful and joy filled environment.

I’m finding ways to come up with systems (borrowing from anyone that will share their wisdom and stories with me) that will streamline the mundane tasks so they don’t take as much energy to start and finish. Those systems have been inspiring little stories around this character.

It’s so boring but I’m finding doing the. Exact. Same. Things. Every. Day frees up my decision making power for the more important things, like connecting with my children, husband, and dogs or exploring creativity in my writing.

So now I have the mental energy to write more… Time to write on the other hand is a bit hard to come by. So I’ve thrown out all rules about when and where I must right. I write on my phone or on my computer whenever I can sneak in a few minutes. I may only get only a handful of words a day written but I am grateful for any words I can get on the paper.

So without further prattle, here is the story:

Henrietta and The First Spark

Every home has a housedragon. You may not have noticed in your house because they’re invisible you see.

They only come alive in homes that are cared for. Every time a household chore is done it feeds that little dragon…

Henrietta loved her family. The mother took such good care of her babies and her home. But something was wrong.

Henrietta was hungry and cold, nobody had lit a spark in the hearth for days. There were dirty dishes stacked on the table and counters.

The garbage can was piling up and overflowing.

Toys were strewn across the family room, some of them had even been stepped on and broken.

Henrietta left her usually warm hearth and ventured into the house. Usually she didn’t stray from the hearth unless the mother of the house was busy at chores–the little pink dragon loved watching her work. She would gulp down all the little sparks that flew up as the chores were finished.

She found the mother in her bed with the blankets pulled up over her head. Two little boys sat on top of the covers playing with their toys in one hand and munching on cookies with their other hand.

The mother had only gotten up long enough to feed them and help them in the bathroom.

Henrietta flew to the headboard and walked along its top. She stared down at the mother.

She didn’t know why the mother’s eyes were red and swollen. She didn’t know why the mother had been crying. Or why she hadn’t gotten out of bed in days.

But Henrietta knew a home needed a mother, or a father, or some other adult tending the hearth.

And Henrietta so dearly loved this mother.

Henrietta’s pink scales faded until she couldn’t be seen and like a breeze she flew around the room. She ruffled the curtains so they fell back and allowed rays of cleansing sunshine to fill the room.

Then she picked up dirty clothes and heaped them in the closet. She had to do a few loops around the room before she worked up enough speed to push the heavy closet door closed.

Then she perched on top of the bedroom door and scanned the room.

The mother was still in the bed, but she sat up and looked around the room.

She turned to her two little boys and smiled at them. They both seemed relieved to see the smile and they crawled into her lap to snuggle inside the circle of her arms.

Henrietta was tired, it took a lot of effort for her to do the housework. She returned to the cold hearth for a nap.

The next morning she woke up, and the house wasn’t so cold. Some kindling had been lain in the hearth.

She flew through the house…

Crumbs and dishes still covered the kitchen.

The trash can still overflowed.

Toys still covered the floors.

But when she reached the bedroom she found it was as tidy as it had been the day before and the mother was awake.

Not only was she awake but she’d gotten out of bed and made the bed. She was sitting atop the tidy covers and smiling at her boys while they jumped and sang on the springy mattress.

Henrietta sprawled across the headboard and watched them with joy. A spark floated towards her. She snatched it out of the air.

She returned to the hearth. The spark warmed her from her belly out to the tips of her wings.

Henrietta fell asleep, resting in the knowledge that the mother was tending the hearth once more.

The End

This story is inspired by the following beautiful artwork created by:

LISALAROSEART.COM

A nobody. That is what I was when I first met the Master.

I believed I was a nobody because they told me that. I was not a stealthy cobra, or a regal bird of prey. I was a toad. Warts and all.

Because I believed them, I didn’t even try to appear before the Master when he was selecting a ruler for his Animal Kingdoms. I was sure that the one appointed to oversee the land would be someone much more elegant than I.

The memory made my silk white collar feel too tight. I ran my webbed hand down the red velvet skirts of my favorite dress. I frowned so my eye ridges wrinkled together and one of my warts bumped my golden crown askew.

The Master, he was the first to mention I was a somebody. I found him, tossing stones into the brown waters of my favorite watering hole. I watched him for a while, and I decided he looked quite perplexed.

“Your Excellency seems troubled.” I tried to say as clearly and proper as I could. It came out as a croak, to my dismay.

“I am.” He replied. Not even phased that a lowly Toad had just initiated a conversation with him.

“What troubles you?” his arm paused mid-throw, he looked at me and dropped the stone. I gulped when he crossed the distance between us and seated himself on the log beside me.

He looked down at me with thoughtful brown eyes. “I have spent the last three days watching the best and the brightest of the animal Kingdoms parade themselves before me.”

I croaked in acknowledgement, and then I snatched a mosquito that was looking for a tasty bite of the Master.

“They do love to preen and strut, don’t they?”

He laughed. The Master laughed at a joke I made.

“They do not seem to understand the purpose of a ruler for the Animal Kingdoms.”

“They did not meet your expectations then?”

“Is there not one who would care for their neighbors? Who would seek to maintain order among my creation?”

“How about the owl, he is very wise.”

“Scholars often lack the ability to relate.”

“The deer, she us very sensitive.”

“But easily manipulated.”

“The badger, quite strict, but not a micromanager.”

I snagged a few more flies from around my Master’s head, and I stopped when I saw his intense stare.

“What about you?” He asked.

“What about me?”

“You would make a fine Queen.”

I croaked again, “but I am a nobody.”

“You are not a nobody. You are Emeraldine Quicktongue.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course, you are after all one of my creation.”

“What could I do for you?”

At that point he only winked and jumped from the log. He gestured for me to follow. So I leapt after him.

“You asked me what troubled me. I am troubled that not one has the perspective needed to rule. Not one understands my creation with the clarity you just demonstrated.”

Now I stood on a pedestal in the Hall of the Animal Kingdoms. Before me was a small boy with bloodshot eyes and a snotty nose. His brown hair fell in thick strands across his eyes, with a red cap with a bill like a duck on it sticking out from his brow. He was small, but the same shape as my Master.

On his little legs were trousers of blue cloth that had holes in the knees, with frayed tendrils hanging down. He sniffed and wiped the snot from his nose on his shirt sleeve.

“Who is he?” I asked. Pitying the poor boy that had been herded into the throne room by a crowd of badgers and minks.

“Who?” asked the badger, “don’t you mean what?”

“He looks like a monkey, but he doesn’t smell like any monkey I’ve ever sniffed.” Commented the mink.

“He is a nobody.” Hissed the snake. “be rid of him.”

I narrowed my eyes at the garter snake. He was harmless compared to his cousins but I don’t trust anything that slithers.

“He is a something and he is a somebody.” I stated.

I squinted at him again, and the poor boy seemed to shrink under my gaze. It was laughable, I am but a hands breadth high, and he shrunk beneath my gaze.

“Send him to the owl.” I said. The owl would have an inclination as to who the boy was and where he may have come from.

The boy turned as the badgers snarled and poked at him. He looked so much like the Master, but that was preposterous. The Master was the only one of his kind. I wished I could ask, but the Master was away from his Kingdom and had left me in charge.

What would the Master do in this situation? I’m sure he would agree, this untidy character before me was a somebody. He would say his name, he always knew everyone’s name.

I croaked, I have been practicing my Master’s language but it still felt awkward. Still in croaks and squeaks I got the question out.

“What are you?”

The young creature turned and looked at her with wide eyes. His small mouth opened and one word came out, “Sonny.”

The mink lost patience and pressed against Sonny’s leg with his paws. When he was gone I turned and looked through the window behind my throne. The sun was setting behind the estate of my master. What was a Sonny? Who was a Sonny?

I knew his name now, but still I didn’t know who he was. I curled my webbed hands into fists and anchored them on my hips. I would have find a way to learn who, or what, a Sonny was.

Tag: short story

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The Toad Queen