Editor’s Note

As spring makes its way into summer, I’m happy to greet sunlight and joy in this issue. We bring you pieces about the love of nature, including Clementine Lewis’s memoir about discovering the wonders of the ocean on a snorkeling trip in the Caribbean. And we have flowers—so many flowers! There are flower photos and paintings, flower poems, such as the clever “Flower Punctuations,” and even a trickily titled story, “Zinnia Elegans.” I call that title tricky because although it’s the name of a flower, this “Zinnia Elegans” is a science fiction piece about a self-driving car. Of course, there really are robotaxis in some cities these days, but this story takes the concept just a bit further. In your writing and art, I challenge you to think about scenarios that are a touch beyond what is happening in today’s technology. Sometimes the best science fiction is only a step away from reality. With a smile and a lot of sunscreen,

Stone Soup Honor Roll: March/April 2024

Welcome to the Stone Soup Honor Roll! We receive hundreds of submissions every month by kids from around the world. Unfortunately, we can’t publish all the great work we receive. So we created the Stone Soup Honor Roll. We commend all of these talented writers and artists and encourage them to keep creating. – The Editors Scroll down to see all the names (alphabetical by section), including book reviewers and artists. ART Arwen Gamez, 14 Abigayle Sanchez, 12 MEMOIR Joyce Deng, 10 Elaine Elizabeth Jinto, 13 POETRY Addison Carpenter, 9 Huxley Evans, 12 Aaisha Asfiya, 9 Raeha Khazanchi, 14 Sadhana Adele Saldanha, 7 Roxane Sender, 7 Emilee Sung, 11 STORIES Peter Cook, 10 Nolan Davis, 13 Louis Imbeau, 11 Ayaan Pirani, 11 Byron Soung, 12 Samuel Stokely, 10 Julianna Szymala, 10 Sid Tanksley, 11 Mia Wang, 13

Highlight from Stonesoup.com

This fiction story is inspired by real events from the lives of my two guinea pigs, Oreo and Snickerdoodle, who were rescued from Prospect Park in Brooklyn, New York, in late 2021. The Life of a Guinea Pig Oreo sniffled. His human family had taken him and his brother, Snickerdoodle, here to die. Oreo didn’t really know where “here” was, but it was probably something like the wilderness. It was late fall, and soon he and Snickerdoodle would freeze to death in a cold, lonely place, with no food, no water, no shelter, no nothing. The last thing Oreo saw before his family took him away was a small brown puppy yapping at them. Oreo could only speculate, but he suspected that the puppy was to be their replacement. It was a terrible day to be a small, fragile, soon-to-be-preyed-upon guinea pig. Because Snickerdoodle was brown, he could camouflage a bit better with the forest around them, but noooo, he just had to have their only hiding place, which wasn’t even really a hiding place, just a tiny twig that didn’t even cover a square inch of either of their bodies. Oreo was black and white, the exact opposite of their surroundings, so if a hawk or another predator came, he would be eaten immediately. Oreo started to cry. But then, a mysterious guinea pig appeared out of nowhere. It looked almost exactly like Oreo. “Don’t be scared!” the new guinea pig oinked. “Ahhhhh!” Oreo screamed. “Oh, come on, I just told you—you know what, never mind. Don’t be sad that your humans abandoned you here, because I’m you from the future! Everything will be okay! You’ll get rescued by a kind human, who will take you to your forever family!” Future-Oreo oinked happily, jumping for joy. “But what about Snickerdoodle?” Oreo asked. “Yeah, what about me?” Snickerdoodle whimpered. “Oh, don’t worry! They’ll take Snickerdoodle too!” Future-Oreo said. “Bye! Don’t forget what I said!” He oinked as he faded away.   You can read the rest of Nova’s piece at https://stonesoup.com/post/stone-soup-monthly-flash-contest-winners-roll/. About the Flash Contests Stone Soup holds a flash contest during the first week of every month. The month’s first Weekly Creativity prompt provides the contest challenge. Submissions are due by midnight on Sunday of the same week. Up to five winners are chosen for publication on our blog. The winners, along with up to five honorable mentions, are announced in the following Saturday newsletter. Find all the details at Stonesoup.com/post/stone-soup-monthly-flash-contest-winners-roll/.

Spring Will Revive

The sun crawls its way past the horizon. Snow dissolves into the abyss beneath the soil, Clouds gather upon tradition. All that lives droils. Suddenly floral colors are slung across the sky, Humid winds make their way Past the joyful birds soaring high. The leaves begin to sing and sway. They all sing in harmony, What a beautiful melody they make. Their voices align perfectly, Soothing all the aches. The fruits ripen and come alive, The hills sprout with a new cover. Animals and insects strive, The colors of life uncover. Spring has arrived. Along with its grace to heal. Spring will revive, And the world will kneel.

Sunset

https://stonesoup.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/sunset.mp4 Warm, golden yellow Against a vivid blue sky Topped with clouds of pink The day is over, Yet a whispering on my mind Gets me to calm down

Crickets

https://stonesoup.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/cricket.mp4 I turn and hear them Soft, quiet, chirping voices Speaking by music

Elena’s Scarf

https://stonesoup.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/SiyonaAgarwal_Elenas_Scarf-1.mp4 Siyona’s family ends a memorable trip to San Sebastian with a delicious Basque meal. I waved my hands back and forth, waiting for my ruby red nail polish to dry. My mom hurried around the house looking for a hairbrush. “I’ll wait outside,’’ my dad yelled, grabbing the apartment keys. I ran into the bathroom and frantically brushed my hair and sprayed detangler. I climbed down two steps at a time and burst outside into the San Sebastian daylight. We waited for our wonderful hosts, Inaki and his family, who were natives of San Sebastian and had become good friends. They were picking us up to go to arestaurant located in asmall village about twenty minutes away from town. Our friends had raved about the restaurant, and I was really looking forward to having a good meal after a whole day of being a dolphin—swimming, surfing, swimming! It was hot and humid outside, and the air was hanging on me. I worried that sweat beads forming on my back might soon turn into a waterfall and soak my pink cotton dress. We took a quick selfie, and I was grateful that our friends arrived soon. We hurried inside the car. We parked and walked to the restaurant. As we entered, I felt a cold wave and greeted it with a smile. After a minute, my arms were lined with goosebumps and my mom said, “Wow! Look at you. You’re like a little strawberry!” All the adults had to get the tasting menu, because we were a group of more than six people: Marta, Mikel, their parents Inaki and Elena, and my parents. I felt grown up, as I was allowed to order á la carte from the adults’ menu. I considered the menu and decided on grilled steak and vegetables. “Have the apple pie. It’s wonderful,” Inaki told me. “Yes!” Marta agreed. “I’m going to change mine to apple pie too.” As the server poured wine for the adults, Elena noticed that Marta was shivering and offered to get the jacket she had forgotten in the car. “I’m okay,” Marta said, rubbing her bare arms. The parents sipped on wine while Marta looked up to see if she was sitting underneath the AC vent. Were my goosebumps from cold or excitement? Perhaps both! Slowly and hesitatingly, Elena pulled a scarf from her purse and gave it to Marta, but not without a worried look. “Don’t get it dirty. This is my favorite scarf,” she said. It was thin, silky, and white with dark red and green spots. Marta was known for being a messy eater while Elena was very careful. I started the first course of olives drenched in a dark green puree by slurping the puree and saving the olives to savor at the end. “Try the olive, it’s magical,” Elena said. The olive burst and melted away the moment I put it in my mouth. I realized that the olives were made of white chocolate. I looked down to see a black ball appear on my plate. The server started explaining. The moment he said, “squid ink,” Marta pulled the scarf back with concern. The slippery eel and caramelized apples kept escaping my fork as I tried to lift them up to my mouth. Everybody moved on to their many main courses, while I got my steak. Four strips of pinkish red surrounded by crispy brown edges. On the side was a small blue pot the size of my palm with carrots, mushrooms, and other vegetables. The tender, juicy steak was gone in no time. I felt kind of full, but I really wanted to try the pigeon, which was the last course on the tasting menu. While everyone else worked through their courses, I admired the wooden twisted sculpture on our table and tried to figure out if it was a candle stand. Many of the courses had sauces. Marta was constantly pulling the scarf back and then putting it back on as soon as she was done putting down her fork. When the third course with a red sauce came around, Marta got concerned and immediately took the scarf off. Elena looked at her with a frown. Inaki teased my mom, “You ate so much bread. We could have bought it from the local bread shop! How will you eat what the chef made?!” When a particularly pretty course came out, we asked our server to take a picture of us to remind us of this wonderful time. Most of the food had local ingredients. Local fish, local vegetables, local meat. I was thinking, that’s good for the planet. We are reducing our carbon footprint. The food was healthy, but the company was even better. We were learning so much about Basque culture. The conversation was light and we were relaxed. My dad raised his glass: “To friends for life and to a new running habit, only because Inaki shows up at our door at six a.m. daily!” I added, “And to swimming in the ocean every day, because Elena and Inaki swam with me.” Everyone raised their glass and our laughter tinkled. Finally, the pigeon arrived. I asked my dad for some, but instead my mom passed me her plate with a look of relief and said, “Thank you, Siyona!” There was a bright red sauce and a piece of grilled meat with dark lines across it. Marta gulped down that course even though she had also had a lot of bread like my mom. I noticed that the scarf was on the chair now. Betta Fish It was time for dessert! First they served cold, cut-up strawberries in wine glasses. Then with steel sprayers they added dollops of steaming whipped cream. “Was it just for show?” we wondered as nobody had expected that the whipped cream would be hot. My taste buds were confused by the contrast between the cold sweet strawberries and the hot cream, and I kept eating spoon after

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Blue sky Yellow sun Trees green Packing done House is quiet Quiet still The only sound Is fridge Drill drill Owl watches Spinning chair Spikey brush Tangled hair

Southwold

(Stare the large window.) I stare out of the large window frosted in sunlight. The seagulls debate early in the morning, flying high over the tipped-up roofs. (Sunlight-seagulls debate in morning.) (High the tipped-up roofs.) My ears open, letting in the rushing sound of crashing, golden waves. I imagine them smacking themselves against the rocks. (Open letting in sound.) (Them smacking against.) One by one each bubbling valley opening to a crash of white thunder, stretching out across the crawling sand, licking up pebbles before dragging them back under the sea. (Up pebbles.) Stare the large window.

Papa

“Papa, why do you look so stern?” “Hannah—” “I just want this to turn—” “We can’t have this conversation this much.” My father pulls away at my gentle touch. At this, salty pools in my eyes begin to leak, I suddenly feel shy and meek. I turn my back and run outside. I run for somewhere else to hide. I run through my secret hedge tunnel, run so fast I almost stumble. Coming to the wood shed-house, I crawl to the corner like a tiny field mouse. I hug my knees, let the rivers run down my cheek, there’s a cut on my knee, I don’t care, I don’t speak. But my mind is racing: Why, why why is he so sad? What is so bad? Is all this because of me? Or does everyone feel like a chopped down tree?