Jennifer goes on an investigation to find out the truth. Did Junior really steal his award-winning design or has Jennifer lost her mind?

This story uses words from '3000 most common words in English'. 


When Jennifer got home that day, she called her grandma. They caught up on the essentials: the move to the new city, the teachers at her school and if she liked her new bedroom. But then Jennifer got down to business.

She explained how this guy called Junior won a gardening award for most innovative design, being the youngest winner in the ceremony’s history. Jennifer’s grandma was supportive of this boy, the way grandparents are always supportive of any accomplishment, big or small. But Jennifer insisted that he was treated like an otherworldly superstar and that it didn’t seem right. 

Jennifer finally just said it. “I think Junior violated the competition rules by copying someone’s design, but I can’t prove it.”

“Oh, my dear, that’s cute, you’ve always loved coming up with adorable little theories. Do you 
remember your friend, Samantha? You two were always playing detectives. Sometimes I see her—”

“—Yes, grandma, but could you help? Take a photo of your neighbour’s garden, please. I think Junior copied her design.”

“Oh, sure thing, dear, I’ll take it after our call and send it straight away. So, tell me more about your new friends…”

Jennifer ended the call by ranting about the truth and how when people manipulate reality, they distort our ability to be authentic individuals. Her grandma kept repeating that’s sweet, dear.

Moments after the call ended, Jennifer received the photo. She compared it to Junior’s. They were identical.

Being a Cloud

Jennifer the Tomato

“And if those trespassers make a move for their rifles, get out of there quick fast!” said Tom as a 
final word of caution to his loyal subordinates. 

At that moment, Tom was startled by a loud SLAM. An unknown figure wrapped in multi-coloured plastic had dropped from the sky and landed right in front of him. The figure groaned as it struggled to breathe. The figure unwrapped itself and came face to face with a giant 15ft alligator. 

“ARRGGHHH!” screamed the skydiver. But his scream shifted to a groan. He winced in pain, grabbing his right arm – possibly a broken bone or dislocated joint. The skydiver got to his knees and begun backing away. 

“Please… Please! Don’t eat me!” cried the skydiver. But Tom the giant alligator was disinterested in eating the injured animal. “Name yourself, human,” said Tom. But all the skydiver perceived was a deadly growl. The skydiver couldn’t comprehend that the 
monster was trying to communicate with him. 

Seeing terror in the skydiver’s eyes, Tom tried to de-escalate the situation. “I am the great Tom. I preside over these lowlands. Simply identify yourself, human, and you will leave with your life. But if you are a poacher—” THUD! The skydiver had snatched the nearest rock, a good-sized one, the size of a bowling ball, and hurled it at the monster’s head. It struck like a sledgehammer on the alligator’s snout. With a momentary distraction, the skydiver limped away into the tall grass. Tom felt a flame of anger ignite in his reptilian brain. His instincts kicked in and he charged for the human. It was as easy as catching up to a crawling baby. Tom WHACKED the limping man across the face with the mighty power of his dragon-like tail. 

After the jaw-breaking blow, the last thing the skydiver saw was the horrific sight of dark
yellow eyes staring into his. “That wasn’t very nice…” said Tom to the unconscious body. “Did you think I wanted to eat you? I have no taste for human flesh or blood. I’m a pescetarian, for crying out loud!”

Tom the Crocodile

This story uses words from '2000 Most Common Words in English'. 

It’s five in the evening and the sun is slowly going down. The sky is a warm yellow colour. 

John is a bundle of pasta. He is held together by a paper band. He is sitting on his roof with his 
acoustic guitar on his lap. In front of him is a pen and notepad. 

Ah yes, thinks John. I’ll use an A chord here. That will make the melody so beautiful. 

The bundle of pasta is writing a love song for his dear wife Karren. She is a bowl of Pho. 

John plays his composition and imagines his wife crying because his song is so touching. He sings about the day he met Karren, about how they fell in love, about how they complete each other. 

Suddenly, John stops playing. He takes his notepad, crosses out some words and scribbles some notes. He has a great idea.
 
The day you found me
I was flying blind
Now I see the light
I’m willing to fight
For you

John is happy with his new lyrics. He takes his guitar again and plays his love song from the 
beginning. Then, he hears a beautiful sound. But it’s not coming from his guitar. It’s coming from inside the house. It’s his amazing, lovely wife calling his name. 

John the Bowl of Pasta

This story uses words from '4000 most common English words'

Zara is dragging Bobby into the market. He is like a stubborn little boy. Her eyes are beaming with enthusiasm and his are downcast with despair. 

The market is out of this world! There are countless numbers of things Zara has never seen before. 

As the two friends walk down the street, Zara points at everything in amazement while Bobby  dismisses them as boring and ordinary. 

Arriving at a food stall, Zara wants to experience everything. “And what are these fragrant things?” 

“Those are herbs…” 

“And this spicy thing?”

“Garlic… umm, where are you from?” 

“And what about this? It looks like the roots of a plant!” 

“That’s ginger, and, yes, they are the roots. Are you from outside of China?”

Zara is overwhelmed with positive emotion and disregards Bobby’s questions. 

The two friends arrive at an animal stall. It has horses, cows, chickens and pigs for sale. Zara touches all the animals, smelling and patting them. “These creatures are beautiful!” 

But Bobby doesn’t get it. He’s never met someone so strange in his life. He’s actually starting to feel irritated by Zara’s joy.

“Look, I have to get going soon… You know, my important task. So, is there anything I can do for you?” 

Zara stuffs a sugar-coated figurine into Bobby’s mouth. “Try this!” 

Bobby reluctantly chews and a little smile appears on his face. But then it disappears and he looks annoyed.

Zara runs off down the street, touching all the lovely silks and picking up all the metal tools. 

Bobby thinks, who does she think she is?

Zara the Mayfly

This story is made from '2000 most common words in English'

The owner spoke, as if he was a host on a TV cooking show. 

“Both these dishes are mighty fine, and soon it will be revealed which will take the title of World’s Best Main Meal.” 

The owner prepared his chopsticks and reached to pick up Little Ball. But then, a mysterious noise sounded, a kind of ring-ring. 

“Ugh, what is it now?” groaned the owner as he returned to the living room. 

Little Ball turned to the serving of shredded, dried kelp. “Did you hear that? World’s Best! That’s us. You’ve got no chance at winning the title.” 

Dried Kelp, who hadn’t made a sound or a movement until now, slowly came to life and said, 
“Whatever, dude, titles are for books…” 

Little Ball whispered to its 5-piece family, “Pfffft, did you hear that? I know Dried Kelp secretly wants the title and we can’t let it win. If it does, then the owner will look down on us, and shame us, and never buy us ever again. We will bring shame to all the unborn octopus balls. No. I won’t allow it. Dried Kelp is the side dish and we’re the main dish.” 

Raising its voice to an intimidating roar, Little Ball, with all of its power, said, “We’re six large balls, but you’re only a few dozen little strips. Good luck beating us!” 

Dried Kelp took a moment to think. “It’s not the amount of pieces that’s important; It’s the owner’s experience that truly matters.” 

Little Ball was confused. Did Dried Kelp just prove my point? We’re less in numbers, but far superior, thought the bite-sized mashed octopus ball. “Exactly, pieces don’t matter—it’s about flavor! And you’re bland!” 

Dried Kelp seemed insulted, or so Little Ball thought. 