Druid42's [APWC] Writing Contest Entries.

As many of you know, ATS sponsors a monthly writing contest run by Super Mod masqua.

It was suggested to put corresponding chapters of stories into the same thread, so basically I'm creating this thread as an anthology of all the stories I enter into this month's contest.

Please remember to flag this thread if you like the stories it contains, and star the individual stories you like. It changes the format of the writing contest just a bit, and is no way required, I'm just attempting this solely as an experiment for the rest of the month. If you subscribe to this thread, be sure to check your myATS for bumps as new entries are posted.

This should make contest entries easier to find. Let's see how it works!

Entry #1:

Life's a Beach. [APWC]

The wave was angry
tossing it's weight onto the shore,
the sand held firm, collecting a few shells,
in the process of shrugging off a
quite needless interruption.

"How can you be so resolved?"
the Sea asked, knowing within,
it's own life was awash in emotion.

"It's simple," the Earth responded,
"you learn to know what works,
and what doesn't,
and then you blink your eyes,
and realize, in a moment,
that life's a beach,
and you either adapt,
or become helpless."

Entry #2:

The abstract anthropomorphic alliteration about animals. [APWC]

Chapter one: A-F

Anderson was an aardvark, the ant-eating kind, undertaking a new approach to an ancillary entry in the annual writing contest approved by the moderator of the short story forum on his favorite website. Busy at his computer, he sat, staring blankly at the screen in front of him, basking in the fact that if he believed hard enough in his abilities, he could produce the best story. Betty barked at him, his pet basset, bringing him out of his reverie.

“I have to go outside, Master Andy. Badly. Can you let me out?”

Casually, Anderson sighed, and nodded. The catastrophe of the first carefully crafted paragraph cautioned him to take a break. Anderson cordially held the door open for Betty. The hound careened carelessly as the door was barely open, her bladder cued for a contained continence.

“Don't dally,” Anderson bespoke, calling dutifully after the basset, “and collect your doody as well.”

The dog dourly barked back, dawdling around a couple of dandelions, “Sure, Master, as soon as I dookie.”

Anderson left his pet to finish his business, and departed his gaze from his dear companion. He departed the dining room, and the double-french doors, and decided to create a delicious dinner.

Soon, ants were basting carefully in a deep dish, and Anderson added endive, entertaining the idea that an extra dash of basil could deliver an exceptional addition to the anticipated aroma. That's when the elephant knocked on the door. It was Ellis, his neighbor.

“Excuse me, Anderson,” the elephant explained, “but can I excise an eggplant from the fabulous flora flourishing in your garden?”

“Help, yourself, Ellis,” Anderson announced, “I didn't expect my eggplant to do well, but they exceeded my expectations. Enjoy.”

“Finally!” Ellis exclaimed, “Forgive my excitement, but it's about being close, watching developing vegetables, waiting for their eventual formation, and getting the harvest!”

Anderson beamed. On cue, the dog barked in the back yard. “Excuse me, Ellis, but Betty needs back inside.”

“Thank you agan, Anderson, and good luck with your G, H, and I's.”