The stars shine brightly in the sky and a couple of miles all around a little wood are the small warm lights of the houses in the towns. Homes with busy little people going about in their busy little lives.
Later in the night, the lights go out one by one, indicating that the familes has resigned to their beds.
And one by one, the widows open and the children climb out of their windows in their night clothes, clutching their stuffed toys and pillows and they meet with their friends in the alleys of the town.
Young and not-so-old, the children meet and in hushed whispers, they talk about their day but never about the stories that they will tell that evening.
The stories were meant for all.
The children from the towns had only one destination in mind...
The Levesque Clearing in Mavis Grove.
No one knows who started the ritual of going to the Grove once every week but the children go anyway to hear the wonderful short stories of others.
The clearing was a beautiful meadow with short grass and a small lake with reeds growing on the sides.
The children brought mats to sit down upon or lay down on as they listen to the stories that the others have prepared all week long for them.
They come in droves in the clearing and automaticaly sit in a multi-ringed circle (They had done this before) and a space in the center reserved just for the volunteer story teller.
The children meet and after exchanging greetings, they sit and wait for a volunteer to stand, go to the center and begin telling a story.
They wait patiently and finally a kid stood up. She looked like a twelve year old and she nervously walked to the center and the children immediately become silent and look at her.
She clears her throat and begins.
YOU ARE READING
Tales of the Children in Mavis Grove
Teen FictionA collection of short stories about whatever strikes the author's fancy. Told by the nameless children of multiple towns in a place called the Levesque Clearing in Mavis Grove.
