"How many fingers am I holding?" he asked peevishly. He waved his hand madly in the air as if doing so would make his hand more visible.

  In broad daylight, it was easy to see that he held up all five fingers; whether he held them intentionally or he simply waved his entire hand carelessly, it was not clear. It did not matter what answer was given or if any was given to him at all. If I suggested five, he would merely insist the thumb was not a finger; if I suggested four, he would say otherwise. If I did not answer or I answered wrong, I'd just be blind.

  Sometimes people forget that I was once able to see just as well as any of them. When much younger and not ruined by misadvice and overwork, not being able to see was unheard of; it was inconceivable. Warned as we were, told to be on the watch for any signs of blur or fatigue, none of us could imagine the seemingly distant notion actually becoming reality. Seeing was a divine right, an...[More]

   Fearless it was.  Covered on all ends with a stubbly patched but thorn-riddled coat, intricately yet thickly woven, it was protected, shielded, nothing could harm it.  Its smooth, lumpy coat, designed with elaborate earthly brown patches and forest-green rings, provided its camouflage to hide it amidst the wilderness.  Scattered about its coat, finely embroidered, leaf-like blades stood dangerously perked, ready to defend and retaliate.  Tall and proud it stood, towering over the fellow fruits, a frizzy batch of foliage attached sleazily about its top to further boost its height.  How strong it must have felt, ready to face the harshest of treatment, the worst of cruelty.

   How wrong it was.  With a heavy thud, it crashed and rolled about the tabletop, helpless on its side, rolling hopelessly without an end.  With a simple plunge of the knife, blade delving deep, the coat was split.  Restrained by nothing more than my bare hands, the leafy blades...[More]

         This is a true story...

         So there was a short lil' guy named Bob and this tiny little  kit-cat named Tom.   Tom was hungry one day and Bob didn't have any  water.   Tom begged for food, but Bob said  no so the tiny cat scratched him.   Bob tried to call for help, but accidentally swallowed his hat.

         A huge ugly dog named Jack came along, but his real name was Bob.   Bob tried to feed the dog to Tom the lil' cat, but Jackbob tried to scare the cat.   Bob then became angry and Tom got  angry too.   Tom didn't know why he was angry  so he started chasing Bob around, but Bob was angry that Tom was angry because he was angry, so he started chasing Jackbob the dog.

    ...[More]

Choose-your-own-adventure short story I wrote way back in 7th grade for Young Authors program, back when I still hand-illustrated things and bound books by hand.  Very short, basically a one-month assignment in class.