And now for the rest of the story...


"Oh, I see you met my cousin Fuzzy." Still laughing and in a playful mocking tone to say he had not thought they be so graced until the morning ... "Fuzzy all the while adjusting his appearance and trying to gain back some shred of dignity.. Interrupted Rufus who was clearly getting far too much entertainment from his misfortune."Ok, ok sorry It, was just I was trying to sleep, as you well know Rufus... so "what is all this then?" Fuzzy asked.

Rufus look sorry mate I know you have had hard few weeks... I brought the boys in to help ya...how about you fill them in on the problem, I told them a bit about that dang elf who stole your ship, but I had not gotten to the most recent turn of events.

"Right said Fuzzy, well how about you find me one of those warm honey beers.

Fuzzy soon downed the larger -part of the mugs contents... when he settles back in a chair near the fire place with a deep exhale.

The others were on the edge of their seats 'when once again the mood was broken by tap crunch... all turned to glare at Big been, who shrugged his shoulders and simply said, "Hey sorry. I eat when I am nervous, and smiled.

They all laughed and then Rufus turned and in a more serious tone urged Fuzzy to share his tale... ribbing him a bit asking him to indeed share this mystery.

Fuzzy began to speak in a voice not completely his own.

Taken aback by this transformation each felt compelled to silence...

It all started not long ago upon a dreary midnight, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a long and curious volume of forgotten lore, trying to find the clues to aid his
search of many a distant shore. For the lost ship he adores.
Fuzzy explained he'd found himself nodding, nearly napping, suddenly there came a
tapping, as of some one gently rapping, rapping at his door.
"Was some late visitor," Fuzzy muttered, "tapping at my door --?
Only this, and nothing more." this intrusion he would ignore.

Ah, distinctly he remembers it was a stormy night first day of October.
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly Fuzzy wished for the morrow; vainly he had tried to borrow
From the books surcease of sorrow -- sorrow for the lost ship Lenore --
For the rare and radiant ship whom the Fuzzy had named Lenore --
Stole away, Lost it seemed his search in vain. His heart grew weary.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Chilled him -- filled him with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of his heart, he stood repeating
"Is but some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door --
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; --
This is probably Shakey or Petal and nothing more."

Presently His soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Shakey," said Fuzzy, "or Sister, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you " there he opened wide the door;
Darkness he saw and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long Fuzzy stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered words, "no time for this must Find Lenore!"
This He whispered, and an echo wind did murmur back the words, "yes find Lenore!
Merely this and nothing more.

Then into the chamber turning, all His soul within Him burning,
Soon Fuzzy heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said Fuzzy, "surely that is something at my window.
Let me see, then, what there is, and this mystery he would explore
If only His heart be still a moment and this mystery explored
Once again he said,'is the wind and nothing more!

Open wide He flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven.
Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, perched above the door, Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling Fuzzy sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from some Nightly shore
Tell me now who spoke, I do implore
Tell me now what do you know of the ship Lenore?
Tell me what is your name? What brings you to this door?
Quoth the raven "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing a bird above his chamber door
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered not a feather then he fluttered --
Wondering at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store.

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird,
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this grim, ungainly, ghastly,
Gaunt and ominous bird
Meant in croaking "Nevermore." Who had said "Find Lenore"?

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining, like that I thrown at the door,

Then I became aware the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by spirits whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Faint shapes did linger, dancing across the floor. Then the door did shutter
As a soft voice did utter with out stop or stutter. "on distant shore lay Lenore"
Let me think no more let me, forget this lost Lenore!" then once again"
Quoth the raven "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! Prophet still, if bird or devil! --
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this home by Horror haunted
Tell me truly, I implore what know you of Lenore?
Quoth the raven "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstanding.
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's be here no more.
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the perch above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven "Nevermore.

My eyes shut tight in attempt to sleep and end this nightmare.
But I could not escape that voice so clear that taunted my ears
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting
Just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming,
And the lamp light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies on the floor liked to this...
Nevermore!

Every night for a week these action did repeat, till finally I did retreat here
In hopes to be free of Nevermore. So now you know the issue so dear,
I have exposed all manner of my fear. The ship that is lost does haunt my soul, but is
the Creature who is my new nightmare.

With that Fuzzy did grow silent and his eyes did close, and his breath grew slow...
The others said nothing all was silent... and then it happen.
There did come a tap tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at the door.

All present did gasp, as wide open flew the window
A dark presence did enter with a flash of lightening as if timed.
And the rain and wind and leaves rushed in.
When window was shut and all was calm there came but one sound.
Quoth the raven "Nevermore.

                                                 the raven

We hope you enjoyed our little take on a classic, up next just for fun we have our own version of a old urban legend.

Happy Halloween Everyone.

Sweet Emily Rose

Echo Meadow was a nice place back then at least that is what the people who lived there said. The people who grew up there liked it so much; they nearly always chose to stay there to raise their own children.

Echo Meadow had all the comforts of a big city, but people always knew their neighbors. When you walked down the street, someone would always smile and ask how you were doing.

Tim Raveneye was one of Echo Meadow's citizens. Everyone in Echo meadow knew him and everyone liked him. He was paper boy to most when he was younger. .and that year he was the head of the Baseball team, they all knew he was big part the fact this year they could all be proud to boast have a winning season.

Tim had a lot of friends. Tim would spend most of his time playing baseball with his friends. But he did not have a friend that he could just talk to. Such is the case with most boys that age. But that Fall everything changed.

That's when he met Emily Rose.

It happened quite by accident. Tim was sitting in his car in front of the Towne Hall daydreaming as usual waiting on a friend who did not show up. He spotted a girl sitting on the bench across the street. She was wearing a party dress kind of old fashion but the girl was very pretty, long blond hair almost white, and the dress was the most pale blue, she was sitting very still just staring ahead ,Tim was not sure but something about her made him feel like she had been waiting there for quite a long time.

"That's the prettiest girl I've ever seen," Tim said. He wanted to introduce himself, but girls always made him nervous. He never seemed to say any of the right things. Finally, he gathered his courage. Well I got stood up and she looks like she might be in the same boat, so off he went.

Tim reached the bench and sat down. The girl kept staring straight ahead. Tim could feel his heart thumping in his chest.

"Hello," he said shyly. The girl did not answer.

"My name is Tim Raveneye" Star pitcher of the Meadow larks" he continued.

Then Tim lightly brushed the girl's shoulder. Suddenly, she came to life. She turned to look at Tim. He could see a touch of fear in her eyes. As if he had just woken her from a dream. Then it faded and was replaced by a Kind of warmth and Kindness.

"Hello," she said softly, "My name is Emily Rose. It is very nice to meet you. Are you here for the dance?" before he responded he noticed.

Emily rose was shivering in the cool autumn air, so he gave her his jacket. They sat on the bench for a long time. Tim did all of the talking. Emily just smiled and offered a few kind words.

The hour grew very late. Tim asked if she would like a ride home. She took one more look up the road toward the bridge and then accepted his offer When Tim stopped in front of her house; Emily leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Tim watched Emily walk to the front door. Before Emily went into the house, she turned, looked at Tim, and smiled. It was the sweetest smile Tim had ever seen. He was nearly bursting with joy as he drove Home. going over and over in his mind the possible future joy of have such a wonderful new friend.

The next morning, Tim picked a small bouquet of flowers and went to Emily Rose's house. An old woman answered his knock. When Tim asked if he could see Emily the old woman looked startled.

"Emily?" "Emily Rose?" She asked.

"Yes," he introduced himself, "I am Tim Raveneye, Emily and I we met last night.

The old woman looked at Tim carefully. Finally, she said, "Please come in."

The old woman pointed to a picture on the mantle.

"Is this the girl you spoke with last night?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"I am Mrs. Standish Emily's mother," she said. "Emily died almost twenty years ago."

Tim did not believe what he was hearing.

"Maybe you should sit down," she said to Tim.

Emily's mother tells Tim about her daughter's death.

"Everybody liked Emily Rose," said Mrs. Standish. "She'd meet someone for the first time and talk to them like she'd known them forever. This house was always full of her friends, laughing 'til all hours," Mrs. Standish paused. The accident well she had gone to meet some friends they were all going to the October dance at the towne hall. You know the one they use to have every year.

She was 16 and we had made her the loveliest blue dress she was so happy and could not wait to show it off. So her father and I allowed her to go early. She was out side sitting on a bench. Waiting and. Her voice trembled, a truck that was delivering food to the party lost control on the bridge and well...she never had time to. her voice faded.

After a moment she said. "You're not the first person to tell me that you've seen her. Is always around October 15th that was the night of the party you see. Well I like to think that she's close. But I myself have never seen her." The sadness in her voice touched Tim deeply. But he could not get past the shock of it all.

"It's true, Tim," said Mrs. Standish. She paused and wiped away a tear. "Emily Rose is buried in the Echo meadow Cemetery." I go there often as I can but I... It is all right, sorry I upset you." I should go now," said Tim.

Tim left Emily's house, his head spinning and ran until he reached the cemetery. When he reached the gates he was out of breath and stop to rest bracing himself on the gate, his heart nearly stopped as he peered thru and saw his jacket that he had given Emily hanging on a tombstone, he pushed his way thus the gate and made his way slowly toward the grave he stopped short, when he saw what was written on the tombstone:

Emily Rose Standish
Beloved Daughter
June 14 1942-Oct 7th 1958

Tim placed the flowers on Emily's grave. He did not know that Emily's ghost was perched on top of the tombstone, watching him closely.

Tim reached for his jacket and held it close to him. He noticed that it smelled faintly of perfume. "I did not imagine you," Tim said. "My jacket is right here!"
"You did wear this!" he exclaimed. "You were sitting on that bench!"
Tim began to pace. He was trying so hard to put this puzzle together.
"There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about," Tim said.
And now I have so many questions...

Just Then Emily walked over to Tim and said, "Don't be sad. I'm right here."
Tim did not so much hear the soft words, but goose bumps rose on his arms at the moment she whispered in his ear. He was over whelmed with a sense of understanding.

He did not know that Emily, the sweetest girl he had ever met would turn out to be a ghost, but some how it did not matter he knew if he ever needed someone to listen she always be there. And after all that is that not the best kind of friend someone could ask for.



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