Money Doesn’t Grow On Trees


Colin was homeless—a fact known by all the people living in his small town. He was a big guy, he was at least a head taller most of the townspeople so he really stood out in more ways than one.

One day he was wandering along an abandoned path looking for berries when he stumbled upon a beautiful, strange-looking tree. It was taller than Colin but its branches were low enough that he could climb them. The flowers looked interesting, so he climbed on up, praying that they were edible.

What he found growing on the tree was an amazing surprise—it was money! Not just dollar bills, either, but $50 bills and $20 bills. Colin couldn’t believe his luck. He pulled a couple of bills down and ran back to town, vowing never to tell another soul where the tree was located.

The first thing Colin tried to do was buy a meal, but the waiter turned him away the moment he walked inside.

“Shoo, shoo. Get out,” the restaurant owner yelled from his back office.

So Colin left. He went to the tailor to see if he could purchase a new suit, in the hopes that a new look would fix his appearance and he’d be allowed to buy some food.

But, once again, Colin was told to leave the store—and this time he was accused of stealing the money! The tailor threatened to call the cops if Colin ever set foot in the shop again.

So he left. He decided to go to the local grocery and buy a load of bread. Whenever Colin had money, he spent in on bread at the local grocery, so he had high hopes for his visit.

Yet again, Colin was turned away. He tried to tell the shop owner about the money tried while he begged for food, but it didn’t work.

The shop owner scoffed and said, “Money doesn’t grow on trees, Colin. I know that, you know that, everyone knows that. Get out of my store with that fake money.”

So Colin left, devastated, and headed back down the abandoned path to the money tree. He sat against the trunk of the tree, crying quietly about the state of his reputation.

How could they think I was lying? Or, worse yet, that I was a thief! he thought.

He slumped down further against the magical tree and ate the only thing he could find for food—the money flowers.


X Marks the Spot


“Aiy, what’s this here marking on the ground? Nine boxes—some be empty, some be having Os, and some be having Xs! They must be marking the spot for tiny treasures! Aiy matey, dig them up and bring them back to The Captain. Get to it!”

They dug and they dug where each X marked a spot, but they still came up with no treasure. When they realized the Xs were not, in fact, marking any spots, the leader sighed a big sigh and turned away from his crew.

“Those hooligan pirates, they fooled us again. I’ll be betting there’s no treasure on this God forsaken island—“ he was saying when he suddenly stopped and peered off into the distance.

Up in the sky, the clouds were forming what looked like an X over a neighboring island.

“Aiy, mateys! An X in the sky, marking the spot where the treasure be!” he yelled.

And just like that, they were off to follow the next X.

Keep Your Eyes Peeled

Keep Your Eyes Peeled

Shannon looked at the heaping piles of meat in front of her on the table. She’d signed up for this cooking class 4 months ago with her best friend Amy, but, like always, Amy bailed at the last minute and Shannon was stuck going alone.

The teacher was intense to say the least. She was a little French woman with a heavy accent and curly white hair. She was very passionate about cooking—and it definitely showed! She certainly wasn’t afraid to yell at her students when they made a mistake. She carried a wooden spoon that she would bang on the table to get their attention when they messed up. Shannon was terrified of the woman, in all honesty.

They were making a bunch of dishes using a pig, the meat from which was piled high on the table in stacks. All the students had placed the eyes in separate bowls. Shannon got a weird feeling every time she looked at them, but she couldn’t stop herself from staring. She felt like she was obsessing about the eyes a little too much but the idea of using them was just so foreign to her.

Shannon could hear the teacher talking but she was only half listening. Those eyes were starting to haunt her. The teacher was instructing the class on what to do next but Shannon didn’t care anymore.

Smack! The wooden spoon banged on the table in front of Shannon.

“Keep your eyes peeled!” the teacher yelled before turning around and walking back to the front of the room.

Shannon picked up her pig eyes and, with her own eyes shut, began peeling them.

“Non! Qu’est-ce que tu fais?! Non, non, non,” the teacher screamed in Shannon’s direction.

Shannon turned around to see who was in trouble before realizing she was sitting in the last row and the teacher was staring directly at her.

“What?” Shannon asked. She didn’t speak French.

“What are you doing? Don’t peel the eyes, keep your eyes peeled for bad meat,” the teacher said.

“Oh, sorry,” Shannon said, putting the eyes down.

Shortly afterwards, Shannon packed up her bag and slipped out of the classroom, never to return.