These are two stories that I wrote last year for my Contemporary Literature class. I can write somewhat better, I was in a rush to finish. I tried giving The Box the odd fairy tale feeling. And With All My Heart is based on Shakespeare's King Lear, I tried to make it into a children's fable. I would love some feed back and constructive criticism.
The Box
They say that it isn’t possible for one to always have everything. This wasn’t the case for Marco Polemero. He deemed himself the luckiest man alive. He had a comfortable house in the outskirts of a little city. There was always wood in the hearth, plenty of food in his pantry and savings in his coin purse. He also had a pleasant and caring wife. She would go to their orchards and pluck from the bushes the plumpest and ripest berries, with which she later baked pies and set them on the window sill to cool. His home always smelled of orchids, blue berries, or sometimes nuts. His lovely companion was also with his child.
Often times, after he came from work, they would go out by the lake and dream of their future infant, their thoughts painting pictures over the crystalline waters. And when the sun hung low in the sky they would sit quietly together and eat the flesh off the sweetest pears around. Then, as the last of the rays settled down for the day, they would walk home and spend the night snuggled warmly in each other's arms.
One unusually warm spring day, their little miracle arrived. He was a handsome baby boy with eyes as green as emeralds and skin as fair as a prince’s. When he took his first look at his parents their hearts filled with an uncontrollable sense of pride and joy.
Three days after he was born, Marco ventured to the forest behind their home in search of these petite white flowers with pink centers that his wife most dearly adored. He was surprised to see a figure sprawled on the ground. It was an old man. A dead old man, with a depressing kind of sadness to his physique. Clutched in the old man’s hand was a sharp pick ax. Next to the body was the most exquisite golden box that he had ever laid eyes on. The lid was encrusted with rubies and diamonds and sapphires and all sorts of glittering precious stones. Everything else was solid gold.
Marco hastily dug up some soil and buried the man, later covering him with dry leaves and sticks so that no part of him was visible. Without further hesitation he swung the box over his shoulder and carried it home. He noticed that there seemed to be something inside by the little jingles that escaped the interior. Perhaps it was thousands of gold coins, or even hundreds of more valuable stones. His mind raced with the possibilities.
His wife’s first idea was to sell the box to the highest bidder. That was what Marco didn’t like about her, she settled too quickly, had no real ambitions. Why be content with one horse when one could have one-hundred of them? He explained to her that there was a great possibility that inside there was a treasure thousands of times more valuable than the box itself, and if he could pry it open, they could become rich beyond their wildest dreams.
He brought the heavy box to his study and laid it on the floor. There was no latch, no lock, nothing from where to begin. He brought a pick axe and began the arduous task of forcing it open. The sun came and went, and came and went once more, and still the box wouldn’t budge, there wasn’t even a scratch on its rich surface. But he wouldn’t give up, if anything it just fuelled his greed and curiosity even more, whomever shut it up so tight must have been guarding a very wealthy treasure.
And so, the days went on and on, and all his strength and attention went towards the box. His wife became weary and tried to talk to him, but he would just send her away, he wouldn’t even want to look at his son, and in that time, a woman knew better than to be overly persistent, so after various tries and a few screamed “go awayyy.” She left him alone.
The months passed, the years passed, Marco had tried many methods. Fire, chemicals, and thousands of tools. Even more years passed, his beard now reached his belly, and the box was intact. Until one day he remembered the old man in the forest and decided to take the box there and perhaps some idea will dawn on him. As he made his way there, he noticed he was weak and feeble, he could barely drag the box, whereas once he had been able to carry it. He wondered how many years it had been since that day. And just that instant he realized his son must be married by now with kids of his own, and his wife must be as old as he was. This great overwhelming sadness spread over his heart like a disease, and he fell to the ground. Dead. His axe in his hand and a tear in his cheek.
Far away in the distance, someone’s eye was caught by the irresistible gleam of the box.
-~-
With All My Heart
It was a sunny spring day, the birds chirped their tunes as the sun kissed the flowers with warmth. But all was not well, the king of the cats was very ill. The old cat had been sick for quite some time and he was now pale and weak. His once luscious pelt had been reduced to a few wiry patches here and there. The king had five daughters and not one son, and his wife had passed away a year before. He had the difficult task of choosing who got to rule over the kingdom. And so he decided to ask his daughters a question.
He called a meeting for his daughters in the great castle hall, and all showed up except his youngest daughter. They waited for her, but the king was growing impatient, so he decided to begin. He called his second youngest daughter to the chair adjacent to his and asked her “My dearest daughter, how big is your love for me?”
The cat was stricken at first to hear such an odd question, but quickly replied “Father, my love for you is as big as tall tree.”
The king was satisfied, and thus he summoned his third youngest daughter next to him.
“My dearest daughter, how big is your love for me?”
The cat raised her paw, scratched her head and after a few seconds replied “Father, my love for you is as big as our lake.”
The king was impressed, and thus he summoned his second eldest daughter.
“Tell me, my dear” he said “how big is your love for me?”
His daughter blinked several times and answered “Father, my love for you is as big as the whole city.”
The kind was even more impressed at her answer. So then he called his eldest daughter and asked her “tell me, my dearest daughter, how big is your love for me?”
The eldest assumed a pensive mode and later replied “Father, my love for you is as big as all of the animal cities put together, the dogs’, the crows’, the snails’, the sharks’, the giraffes’, the lions’, and the squids’.
This was by far the greatest answer to reach the old king’s ears. He patted his daughters leg. In that instant the youngest one entered the room panting.
“What is your excuse for being late to this very important assembly?” asked the king, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“I’m sorry father but Mrs. Lexi was having her kittens and there was no one there to help her but myself.”
“Very well then” said the father, still vexed “come and sit next to me.”
She obeyed and he asked her the same question that he had asked all four.
The young cat quickly smiled and hugged her father “Why papa, I love you like a daughter loves her father, with all of my heart!”
“How dare you!” growled the king. He thought her answer was so minute and plebeian, that it was like an insult. A heart? he thought, that’s not even one-fourth as big as a tree! And so he yelled and screamed at his daughter for playing such a ridiculing joke on him and not showing a worthy amount of love towards her own father.
The young cat was so terrified to hear her father speak to her that way that she ran away from home. The weeks passed and the king became even more ill. However, his daughters paid no real attention to him, they were far much more interested in spending their dying father’s riches on lavish items. They bought mice furs, ruby necklaces, diamond earrings, silk dresses, ebony shoes, and all the finest things money could buy. Meanwhile their father grew even more feeble in his bed.
Word of the cat king’s condition got to the dog king’s ears. He attacked the weakened kingdom with all his army and strength. The cat army had no leader, for the king wasn’t strong enough to give orders, and their daughters didn’t know anything about battle tactics. And so, surely, they lost the battle and the cat kingdom was taken over by their dog adversaries. The king and his four daughters were banished to a rustic farm house far away from the palace. Since the daughters couldn’t do anything for themselves, one by one they left the farm. One married a merchant, another married a fisherman, another married a blacksmith, and the eldest married a sculptor. And the king was left alone with no one to care for him.
The youngest one, which had been living in the neighbouring lion kingdom, hadn’t heard anything about her family in months. So she asked around, and found out what had happened to the kingdom and to her father. Immediately, she packed her few possessions and joined her dying father at the little old farm house. She tended for him every single day. In the mornings she would bring him herb teas and orange juice, for lunch she would use the ripest tomatoes in the garden to make him a soup, and in the afternoon, she would spend one or two hours each day hunting for a healthy mouse to bring to her father for dinner. Every day before he went to sleep she would bring him more herb tea and kiss his forehead. During the day she read to him and told him tales of their weird cousins- the lions.
One day, the daughter found her father dead, he had passed away peacefully in his sleep. Filled with grief, she buried him and carved a tombstone for him. The epitaph read “A great king, and a great father, which I loved, with all my heart.”
The Box
They say that it isn’t possible for one to always have everything. This wasn’t the case for Marco Polemero. He deemed himself the luckiest man alive. He had a comfortable house in the outskirts of a little city. There was always wood in the hearth, plenty of food in his pantry and savings in his coin purse. He also had a pleasant and caring wife. She would go to their orchards and pluck from the bushes the plumpest and ripest berries, with which she later baked pies and set them on the window sill to cool. His home always smelled of orchids, blue berries, or sometimes nuts. His lovely companion was also with his child.
Often times, after he came from work, they would go out by the lake and dream of their future infant, their thoughts painting pictures over the crystalline waters. And when the sun hung low in the sky they would sit quietly together and eat the flesh off the sweetest pears around. Then, as the last of the rays settled down for the day, they would walk home and spend the night snuggled warmly in each other's arms.
One unusually warm spring day, their little miracle arrived. He was a handsome baby boy with eyes as green as emeralds and skin as fair as a prince’s. When he took his first look at his parents their hearts filled with an uncontrollable sense of pride and joy.
Three days after he was born, Marco ventured to the forest behind their home in search of these petite white flowers with pink centers that his wife most dearly adored. He was surprised to see a figure sprawled on the ground. It was an old man. A dead old man, with a depressing kind of sadness to his physique. Clutched in the old man’s hand was a sharp pick ax. Next to the body was the most exquisite golden box that he had ever laid eyes on. The lid was encrusted with rubies and diamonds and sapphires and all sorts of glittering precious stones. Everything else was solid gold.
Marco hastily dug up some soil and buried the man, later covering him with dry leaves and sticks so that no part of him was visible. Without further hesitation he swung the box over his shoulder and carried it home. He noticed that there seemed to be something inside by the little jingles that escaped the interior. Perhaps it was thousands of gold coins, or even hundreds of more valuable stones. His mind raced with the possibilities.
His wife’s first idea was to sell the box to the highest bidder. That was what Marco didn’t like about her, she settled too quickly, had no real ambitions. Why be content with one horse when one could have one-hundred of them? He explained to her that there was a great possibility that inside there was a treasure thousands of times more valuable than the box itself, and if he could pry it open, they could become rich beyond their wildest dreams.
He brought the heavy box to his study and laid it on the floor. There was no latch, no lock, nothing from where to begin. He brought a pick axe and began the arduous task of forcing it open. The sun came and went, and came and went once more, and still the box wouldn’t budge, there wasn’t even a scratch on its rich surface. But he wouldn’t give up, if anything it just fuelled his greed and curiosity even more, whomever shut it up so tight must have been guarding a very wealthy treasure.
And so, the days went on and on, and all his strength and attention went towards the box. His wife became weary and tried to talk to him, but he would just send her away, he wouldn’t even want to look at his son, and in that time, a woman knew better than to be overly persistent, so after various tries and a few screamed “go awayyy.” She left him alone.
The months passed, the years passed, Marco had tried many methods. Fire, chemicals, and thousands of tools. Even more years passed, his beard now reached his belly, and the box was intact. Until one day he remembered the old man in the forest and decided to take the box there and perhaps some idea will dawn on him. As he made his way there, he noticed he was weak and feeble, he could barely drag the box, whereas once he had been able to carry it. He wondered how many years it had been since that day. And just that instant he realized his son must be married by now with kids of his own, and his wife must be as old as he was. This great overwhelming sadness spread over his heart like a disease, and he fell to the ground. Dead. His axe in his hand and a tear in his cheek.
Far away in the distance, someone’s eye was caught by the irresistible gleam of the box.
-~-
With All My Heart
It was a sunny spring day, the birds chirped their tunes as the sun kissed the flowers with warmth. But all was not well, the king of the cats was very ill. The old cat had been sick for quite some time and he was now pale and weak. His once luscious pelt had been reduced to a few wiry patches here and there. The king had five daughters and not one son, and his wife had passed away a year before. He had the difficult task of choosing who got to rule over the kingdom. And so he decided to ask his daughters a question.
He called a meeting for his daughters in the great castle hall, and all showed up except his youngest daughter. They waited for her, but the king was growing impatient, so he decided to begin. He called his second youngest daughter to the chair adjacent to his and asked her “My dearest daughter, how big is your love for me?”
The cat was stricken at first to hear such an odd question, but quickly replied “Father, my love for you is as big as tall tree.”
The king was satisfied, and thus he summoned his third youngest daughter next to him.
“My dearest daughter, how big is your love for me?”
The cat raised her paw, scratched her head and after a few seconds replied “Father, my love for you is as big as our lake.”
The king was impressed, and thus he summoned his second eldest daughter.
“Tell me, my dear” he said “how big is your love for me?”
His daughter blinked several times and answered “Father, my love for you is as big as the whole city.”
The kind was even more impressed at her answer. So then he called his eldest daughter and asked her “tell me, my dearest daughter, how big is your love for me?”
The eldest assumed a pensive mode and later replied “Father, my love for you is as big as all of the animal cities put together, the dogs’, the crows’, the snails’, the sharks’, the giraffes’, the lions’, and the squids’.
This was by far the greatest answer to reach the old king’s ears. He patted his daughters leg. In that instant the youngest one entered the room panting.
“What is your excuse for being late to this very important assembly?” asked the king, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“I’m sorry father but Mrs. Lexi was having her kittens and there was no one there to help her but myself.”
“Very well then” said the father, still vexed “come and sit next to me.”
She obeyed and he asked her the same question that he had asked all four.
The young cat quickly smiled and hugged her father “Why papa, I love you like a daughter loves her father, with all of my heart!”
“How dare you!” growled the king. He thought her answer was so minute and plebeian, that it was like an insult. A heart? he thought, that’s not even one-fourth as big as a tree! And so he yelled and screamed at his daughter for playing such a ridiculing joke on him and not showing a worthy amount of love towards her own father.
The young cat was so terrified to hear her father speak to her that way that she ran away from home. The weeks passed and the king became even more ill. However, his daughters paid no real attention to him, they were far much more interested in spending their dying father’s riches on lavish items. They bought mice furs, ruby necklaces, diamond earrings, silk dresses, ebony shoes, and all the finest things money could buy. Meanwhile their father grew even more feeble in his bed.
Word of the cat king’s condition got to the dog king’s ears. He attacked the weakened kingdom with all his army and strength. The cat army had no leader, for the king wasn’t strong enough to give orders, and their daughters didn’t know anything about battle tactics. And so, surely, they lost the battle and the cat kingdom was taken over by their dog adversaries. The king and his four daughters were banished to a rustic farm house far away from the palace. Since the daughters couldn’t do anything for themselves, one by one they left the farm. One married a merchant, another married a fisherman, another married a blacksmith, and the eldest married a sculptor. And the king was left alone with no one to care for him.
The youngest one, which had been living in the neighbouring lion kingdom, hadn’t heard anything about her family in months. So she asked around, and found out what had happened to the kingdom and to her father. Immediately, she packed her few possessions and joined her dying father at the little old farm house. She tended for him every single day. In the mornings she would bring him herb teas and orange juice, for lunch she would use the ripest tomatoes in the garden to make him a soup, and in the afternoon, she would spend one or two hours each day hunting for a healthy mouse to bring to her father for dinner. Every day before he went to sleep she would bring him more herb tea and kiss his forehead. During the day she read to him and told him tales of their weird cousins- the lions.
One day, the daughter found her father dead, he had passed away peacefully in his sleep. Filled with grief, she buried him and carved a tombstone for him. The epitaph read “A great king, and a great father, which I loved, with all my heart.”
