Illusory correlation_Tony’s Picnic - Another Tony Adventure_The Savior_Something in the Water
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Illusory correlation
Tonight, the moon is full and lustrous. The final full moon of the winter season. A change is coming. The earth loosens her soil. Spring is just around the corner. I stood on the balcony wrapped in the gaze of the moon, inviting brighter and longer days, when I heard: -“Nana!” a very persistent calling from my grandson, probably trying to manipulate me into giving him some extra time, before turning off the lights. -“Have you seen the moon, Nana?” Raphael asked, with his nose stuck to his bedroom window. -“Yes, isn´t it beautiful? It is called Worm moon.” I said as I walked into his room. -“...
Tony’s Picnic - Another Tony Adventure
Tony, Antonia’s stuffed panda, tried www.onedoor.ccto control his excitement. He watched the commotion of prepping for a family excursion to the woods. Anticipation made him quiver with excitement. Not wanting to be left behind, he sat amidst the chaos. Tony always wanted to go on a picnic and ‘Get back to the land,’ as the song said. Only Tony heard, ‘get back to bamboo.’ Either way, he wanted to reconnect with his roots. Especially if they were bamboo roots. Antonia placed Tony atop the wicker picnic basket. She called out, “Mom! That’s everything!” She went to the car. Tony held his breath until place...
The Savior
"Tell us a story, baba," the children asked, hungry for another tale woven to lull them to sleep"The one with the rose and the beast.""No, it is too girly, tell us a story about the pirates."Their grandpa smiled benevolently over them, his smile reached his eyes, lighting his dim grey eyes, he said,"Fine, I'll tell you a story, but it is a real one, of the times when we could talk to the plants and animals, the gods and the spirits.""Pfft! it is impossible." said the elder ones, turning their noses up and looking scornfully at young ones, who still believed that Santa Claus came down their chi...
Something in the Water
“Hi Lenny.”“Hello,” I replied to the lank-haired guy in horn-rimmed glasses, sitting about three rows from front. The host, Jerome, had picked him as he’d the one being most insistent with his hand-waving. Jerome was probably grateful that someone looked more nervous than he did. I shot a glance at him before turning to listen to the question from the audience member. He was holding the mic at arm’s length, like it was a snake about to bite him. “Um, so, as I’m sure a lot of us are wondering, but, err, how is it you get your ideas for these retellings?” Stuttered foreplay, followed by frenet...