AWESOME new story!!!!! :)

Sooooo.....i've had author's block since who knows when, but last week i came up with (not to brag) an AWESOME STORY! Here is the awesomeness so far:

Prologue

One bright and hot day when the sun shined over the mountains of Arkansas like a puddle of gold, in an abandoned and broken old school bus, a tattered and capricious young woman sat with her mascara-covered eyes fixed on a giant pearl ball. It sat, protected, in a stout golden vase with drops of dew sprinkled on it like shiny sprinkles on cupcake frosting.

The young woman was about thirty-one, never tasted corn chowder before and was sometimes called crazy. She wore delicate and tranquil orange scarves around her body and she liked to sing opera in the shower. Her name was Ms. Penelope Eucalyptus and right now she was seeing the future.

The giant pearl wasn’t your regular crystal ball. It was purple tinted and it was made for sorceresses only, so it never told when, what, why, where, who or how. Most people think sorceress’s crystal balls show an image of something in the past, present or future. They think the image shows what some ones doing, who the some one is, when it’s happening and where, why it’s happening and how. But no, in real sorceress’s crystal balls it just sends a message to your mind that’s always in the future and never says what, when, who, why, where or how. For instance, right now in the old tattered school bus, Ms. Penelope Eucalyptus was getting a worrying message in her mind.

Her bruised fingers wiggled like a spider above the pearl. Her lipstick-covered mouth whispered majestic words that she dare not speak in public. They held the secret to what Ms. Penelope Eucalyptus was about to take in, to know. Ms. Penelope’s voice sounded like a butterfly whisper on the first of May or like a daffodil’s laugh, which sounded quite delightful. But even though the young woman’s voice was so incredibly precious, the woman in general was the most ugly rat in probably all of Arkansas.

“Come, my crystal ball. Show me what you have and tell me what you know. My anxious ears would like to know. What do you have to tell me so? Come, my purple pearl. You are welcome to whisper into my ear. Come on, I would like to hear. Tell me all your secrets, oh I must know! What do you have to tell me so?” Ms. Penelope whispered to her reflection in the crystal ball. The pearl seemed to nod in response, twisting and turning in the golden vase. Ms. Penelope closed her eyes and sat stiff and still as it turned. Then a sharp, piercing wind shook the old school bus and just as Ms. Penelope got the message in her mind, the wind stopped and she opened her eyelids. She listened hard as the giant pearl whispered into her mind.

“Oh no! Oh gracious, me! I’ve never gotten such a terrible message since I was thirteen and Grandma Ruby got pneumonia! All I had to do was get penicillin, not try to stop all this jazz! And, oh! I won’t be able to do this myself!” Ms. Penelope quietly shrieked, not doing her daffodil laugh voice. Ms. Penelope found a silver vial hanging on a hook on the ceiling of the bus. She poured half of the orange liquid into a brass pot. Then she put half of a guava into the pot, too. She also poured a cup of chipmunk bile and stirred it crazily. Now she only needed to catch four doves. Ms. Penelope stepped out the emergency exit of the school bus, for the door had rusted shut. Then she pulled her scarves around her face, not about to reveal her charming appearance and walked to her favorite tree. Nestled upon the great roots of the oak, she found a great big golden cage with a delicate heart shaped keyhole. She mysteriously reached into her velvet pocket and pulled out a golden key with roses carved on each end. It fit perfectly into the cage and the door flew open. Then she reached into her other pocket and pulled out a wooden whistle. She dropped the cage and leaned against the oak, pulling the whistle to her lips. She blew a light and tranquil blow and even the wind stopped to listen. As she closed her eyes and played the whistle, two doves came and perched on the lowest branch to listen. Ms. Penelope opened one of her eyes and saw the doves. Then she quick shut it. As she started playing a graceful waltz, two more doves came and perched next to the other two and rocked back and forth to the mesmerizing melody. She opened her eye, saw it and slowly and smoothly picked up the cage. Then she quickly plunked it over the doves and locked it.

“Ha, ha! Got you, you dumb birds!” Ms. Penelope laughed, stuffing the key and whistle into her pocket and walking home with the doves. When she got to the old bus she set the cage on a seat and got out a pen and paper.

“I’ve got to make it sound mysterious and intriguing. But, remember, they’ll just be kids.” Ms. Penelope licked the pen and begun to write her letter. She made five copies. When she was done, she set them each in an envelope and licked it shut. She addressed each one to a different place.

“I hope this works.” Ms. Penelope said, dipping a ladle into her concoction she made earlier.