Miranda Goshrove The sky was clear and starry. The full#mooncast white shadows in the cobbled streets of Dublin, Ireland. The leaves of the trees ruffled in the whispering breeze of the wind, typical on a warm summer day. As I was walking on Costenroad Street, a little girl was waiting in the bus station. I sat next to her and for a second it seemed like she was made from the moonlight itself. It quickly passed away and everything seemed normal again. A couple of minutes passed and I could feel the silence falling over us like a cloud. Just to brighten the mood I started talking to the girl. "Are you waiting for the bus?" "No I am waiting for my mother. She said that if I ever get lost I should just sit and wait for her." Her voice sounded clear and beautiful but something in the back if my mind told me there was something wrong, dangerous about her. "How long have you been waiting for?" I asked. "Quite a lot. Time doesn't mean anything to me now." as she said this I felt like I was dragged towards her, and I couldn't do anything about it. "So, what about your name?" "Names shouldn't be used so much. Names have power." again, I felt that my soul was being dragged away from my body, dragged away in another world, where despair and fear are dominant. My brain was not in control of my body anymore and I just continued talking: "What about your father? Where is he?" "Oh, I never met my father. He either died in the first World War, or never came back. You know, I don't really miss..." " Wait, did you just say World War One? As in WW1?" "Yes. You see, I am old, really old. People call me Miranda Goshrove, or at least 'called' me." She said with a laugh. "I was left here a couple of tens of years ago - as I said time doesn't matter to me anymore - when my mom was burned alive. She was a witch. The people found out she was my mother so they burned me too." "How come you still live then?" "I don't 'live', only my soul wanders the place where I died. A little friend of the witches told us that if we give him souls, he will give us #life. I believe people this days call him the Devil?" as she said this I saw her face for the first time and an evil grin was spread on her face. Her eyes twinkled red and her shape started to fade. "You are saved this time. But fear the names, next time you won't be so lucky. They never are." her eyes and mouth were the only parts still hovering in the air. The lights of the bus washed away every sign that she was here. "You going on board, boy?" asked the driver. "Hm? Oh yeah... Thanks..." "For?" "Nevermind." Even now, 7 months after I saw the girl, I still see her while I sleep. She keeps chanting "Tick, Tock" and the beautiful smile slowly turns into her evil grin again and a hideous laugh echoes around my head until I wake up.

Arrival of Autumn Summer is gone, Autumn is here! The sky is dark, Dropping a tear. Leaves are falling, Falling on the ground Taken by wind, And it's hollow sound. Kids are outside Running in the streets, Knocking on the doors Gathering lots of sweets. Slowly night creeps out, Children going in Bragging with the sweets, On their face a grin. People are sleeping, Darkness in the night. Monsters come out And the windows bright. Autumn is here! Summer no more, It'll be the same Next year... and forevermore.

Old Stories - Chapter 1 "Hurry up, Harry! We shall not lose thy battle." Said the boy running up on the hill in front of his house. "We mustn't! We have to win, and we will. Here comes the last blow!" With a huge sweep of his "sword"he hit the trunk of the tree and a loud noise echoed down the valley. They laughed and talked about their victory a bit more, then they turned back, heading towards "The Oak". It was a place they liked to go whenever they needed a break. Being in the centre of the town, it was a beautiful place to be. Legends say that the tree was planted when the town was built, but it looked more like the town was made after the tree was planted long ago. Every single street and every single sound was seen and heard from The Oak. As they approached, a tall dark contour appeared in sight. It became cleared and clearer until a huge tree was visible, leaves ruffling in the silent wind. A small wooden bench came in view just under the shade of the oak. An old man was sitting on the bench, puffing smoke from his pipe. His gaze was set on the boys, as if he was waiting for them. He then spoke: "What took you so long?" "The enemy was high in number," answered the smaller of the brothers. "So... When are you going go tell us the story?" Asked the other. "Didn't I tell you already? I'm pretty sure I did. I may be old but memory is as fresh as it has always been." "But you said you may say it today!" said the boys looking obviously disappointed. "Yes, I did. I said I may, not that I would." "All right, we will wait 'till tomorrow." They walked silently back to their usual tree, sparring a bit more. The last ray of the sun disappeared under the Isfred Mountains and they finally headed home.