Stories For Thing



Today on the bus called Back Home
I dangled my legs and wrote a pome
About when I’d be a lady and all,
Jiggly chest, lipstick and tall.

I should like to marry a millionaire
And own a bookshop, one here, two there.
Or I’ll marry a bookshop and turn it out
With tea and scones and an orange cat stout

I would butter my cats and pet my scones
And pour tea down red tellyphones.
I’d knead and bake old Rumpelstiltskin
Top him with Playdoh, sprinkle him with mint.

I’d stand on fat books to trap the fairy (tales) in
Order them to stop being so pretty, and pull out a wing.
I’d tell rude old women, who came in for tea
Exactly what I think of them completely for free.

That’ll show them for pinching my cheeks
Or crushing my face to their pudding chest of fleece.
I’d run far away if I was asked to be polite
Disappear to secret places and give my folks a fright.

I’d empty the refrigerator and leave open the door
For my polar bears to climb in, to slumber and snore
My flamingo would be my sceptre, my staff
Or would I need something taller, maybe a giraffe?

I’d make a thing, all shiny and clean
that goes around call it the More and More Machine.
what would it make more of i don’t quite know
more and more rubbish maybe, a lot more than before

i could tell you about my teachers in school
wearing a man’s shoes, missing a toe, keeping the rule
but the Back Home Bus has brought me home
where I’ll be too busy to finish this poem

By Sandhya Menon

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The Elevator That Went Nowhere

Somewhere in the faraway land of Boombeh, there was a little house. Inside this little house was an elevator. Now you must be wondering, what’s an elevator doing in a little house? But there it was.

People laughed about it, made little jokes about the little house with the elevator. They called it ‘The Elevator That Went Nowhere’.

No one went near the elevator. ‘What’s the use?’, they’d say. ‘Where can this possibly take us? To the terrace of this little house?’, they shrugged the idea away.

But not Thing.

You see, Thing loved elevators.

She couldn’t stop herself from trying this elevator out. The Elevator That Went Nowhere.

So, one fine day, Thing dressed up in her best dress and stepped inside The Elevator. The Elevator was the coziest elevator Thing had ever seen. It had lots of buttons and knobs and lights and fans and wonderful music played inside it. It had a mirror where Thing could see her best dress swoosh around as she twirled and danced around in The Elevator.

‘But where does this Elevator go?’, Thing wondered.

There were SO many buttons with all kinds of numbers (some of them Thing hadn’t even learned yet). Then there were buttons with images and dates and words. There was a button that said ‘I’m feeling lucky’. There was a button that said ‘Spin’. There was a button that said ‘Tweet’.


What a funny elevator, Thing thought.

So she did, what she did on the normal elevators.

She pressed the button with the number ‘3’ on it.

3 – For Thing, Mama and Dada. Simple.

The Elevator made a funny noise and Thing felt as if the Elevator was rushing up a very, very tall building. As if the little house wasn’t so little at all.

After some time, when The Elevator had made enough funny noises, it stopped. The doors of The Elevator opened and Thing stepped out.

In front of her were three musketeers, muskeeting away.


Athos, Porthos and Aramis (funny names Thing thought) kept muskeeting till Thing got bored and stepped back into The Elevator.

This time she pressed ‘7’.

The Elevator made all the funny noises again and stopped once more. As Thing stepped out, she could hear faint singing. Straining her little neck a little, Thing saw seven dwarfs walking towards a beautiful little cottage, carrying shiny jewels and singing songs that spoke of a fair princess. Thing went up to them and asked them what the song was about. They told her the song was called ‘The Ballad of the Fairest of them all’, in memory of a dear friend who had gone away to live with a handsome prince. What a foolish girl, Thing thought. Who’d leave these friendly dwarfs and go live with a handsome Prince? But then, she thought, one day, I’ll get married and go live with a handsome Prince as well. Yougottadowhatyougottado.

Or maybe the Prince would come and live with her and the dwarfs? Or the handsome prince and the dwarfs and Mama and Dada and Thing could all live together. In the little House. Definitely in the little house with The Elevator.

Thing said goodbye to the dwarfs(much to their dismay) and returned to the Elevator. This time, she pressed ‘SPIN’, just for some variety you know.

The Elevator began spinning. It spun around like one of those roundabouts at the playground. Everything around Thing was becoming blurry and colorful and there was music to accompany the spinning. The Elevator kept spinning till Thing was so sleepy that she just couldn’t keep her eyes open. And then she slept.

And as she slept she dreamed a beautiful dream – of numbers and words and dwarfs and songs and lovely little houses. When she woke up, all the buttons in The Elevator had disappeared. Only one button remained. The one that said ‘I’m feeling lucky’.

So Thing pressed it.

And the doors of The Elevator opened.

Outside The Elevator was Thing’s home. And in Thing’s home were her Mama and Dada.

As she stepped outside, The Elevator made a funny noise again.

And then it spoke: ‘Even when the world tells you that you won’t go nowhere, Thing, cling to your dreams. Trust them like you trusted The Elevator That Went Nowhere and the world will be more magical than you could ever imagine.’

With those words of wisdom, The Elevator made another funny noise and disappeared.

It probably went back to its little house, Thing thought.

And so she ran into her house and into her Mama’s lap and exclaimed, ‘I’M FEELING LUCKY TODAY MAMA!’.

‘So am I’, Mama said and hugged the luckiest girl in the world.

By Tantanoo

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The Protector


Princess Kyra stood defiantly in the arena, the hopes of thousands sitting squarely on her young but confident shoulders. Her cape billowed violently in the wind, much like wings preparing to take flight. This was the moment that she had trained for, her entire childhood. This was her legacy to fulfil; and her battle-ground, this craggy hilltop with a slippery surface and giant boulders surrounding it.

On her proud forehead, glistened the tiara bestowed by her Mother, Queen of the Amazons, as her blessing before this glorious battle. Held aloft in her hand was the deadly Fire-staff, passed on to her by her Father who himself was bequeathed it by his own Sire. But this was not her sole weapon for the confrontation ahead, nor was she without an ally. At her side stood her faithful Tiger, a friend she had grown up with since they were both little more than cubs, fiercely protective of her and raring for the battle ahead. His teeth menacingly bared and his eyes fixed intently on the enemy as it crouched above.

Yes, the Enemy. The despoiler of their lands, the scourge of livestock and infants and terroriser of her hapless subjects. The primitive tormentor, thwarted by her ancestors, had once again risen and invaded their lands and forced their subjects to come crying for succour. The terrible, fire-breathing evil Dragon perched above her on the sheer wall facing the hillock, poised to launch an attack. Fierce in disposition and giant in width, this was her enemy in this battle for Justice. An enemy larger, stronger and with more power at its disposal than she and her loyal Tiger combined.

Yet she was unfazed, she knew no fear as she prepared to release the Tiger and aimed her Fire-staff, ready to plunge into fierce battle herself. She had the training and courage of her ancestors, her own steely will and the blessings and wishes of her subjects willing her on. The subjects who even now watched in nervous anticipation and rent the air with their cheers. As she began to leap she felt buoyed by these very chants of ‘’Kyra, Kyra, Kyra.’’

‘’KYRA, STOP SHINING DADA’S TORCH AT THAT POOR LIZARD AND GET OFF THE BED THIS INSTANT! Look, what a mess you’ve made jumping around like that, the pillows and covers strewn all over. And how many times do I have to tell you that the Cat is NOT allowed on the bed. And why do you have that dirty towel from the laundry-bag wrapped around you? And my hair band on your head, child? I can never understand the things you get up to, I tell you.’’

Little Kyra sighed and thought, not for the first time, that Mommies shouldn’t be allowed in your Fairy Tales.

By Le Mot Just

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