Unappreciated Works Feature #33

The features for the months of November and December.

Quippers-United

10
I brought a telephone up the stairs. Apparently the telephone in the next room wasn’t working. I opened the door, and inside was a forest.
Every tree was in a perfect row. Every tree was a hundred feet tall, but seemed like they had been pruned for a long time. I took a step into the room to look around. Behind me, the wall connected to the door seemed to extend infinitely upwards, painted sky blue, almost blending in to the sky surrounding it. I suppose I was no longer inside the hotel. There was a small, empty strip of land between the wall and the tree line.
“Hello?” I called out to seemingly no one.
Suddenly, a centaur galloped out from the trees. Up to this point, I had yet to come across a guest that wasn’t human, though I had no doubt I’d probably run into a talking dog or something next door. The horse-man had a strong appearing body, but thankfully he was wearing a dress shirt. I took a mental step back to determine why my one reservation about se Peace In Running Valley
I sleep in a hollow under the roots of a tree. It doesn’t like closed spaces.
Of course, it quickly learned that it could hide in the tree and wait for me to come out. I remember the look on its face when it stared down the barrel of my rifle. It was a look of begrudging acceptance. It didn’t run. It knew I wouldn’t shoot. No matter how vicious this creature was, it knew the sound of a gun far too well to attack one.
It’s difficult learning to sleep with fear. I wonder how it sleeps.
Yesterday morning, three men, two pistols and a rifle, came to take out the creature. I shot one in the shoulder. If they hadn’t the sense to leave, then I would have shot to kill. Someone once called it a crime, but I’ve long since abandoned that notion. There are many men, and only one creature. Every time I’ve shot to kill, I’ve taken away thirty years of life. One year spent being cradled by a mother. One year learning to walk. One year learning what it m

Little-Red-Hat

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mjponso

[Sonic] The Last Frontier: Ch. 1The fiery rays of the evening sun were scarcely visible through the thick canopy of the trees as I jogged my way back into the cozy little village that my friends and I called home.  In the shadows of the forest, the few people that were shuffling about may have given one the impression that this was the kind of place where nobody was in a big hurry to go anywhere or do anything, but I knew better, as I made a beeline for the large round building in the center of town.  Its stone-and-brick construction -- with a light-gray protective stucco coating on its outside walls -- was a stark contrast to the predominantly wooden dwellings and small shops that surrounded it, making it easy to spot.  It was the place where official town business was conducted during the daytime, and used as an informal gathering area most other times.
I knocked on the wide wooden double doors, more to announce my presence than anything else, and then pulled one open to walk inside.  The recess

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