Bohemia Village Voice

The Enchanting Owl

In the valleys of Wikiham there lay a wood made up of trees. These trees made up a path, the path led up to an altitudinous tree. And in the tree lived a snow-white owl whose name was Magus.
One thing Magus did not like though, was the cutters. She was somehow devastated to be done with the cutters that were chopping their way through her woods as though they were trying to find something very valuable.
This particular morning on which a curious incident took place was as crisp as an apple. Magus got up and flew round and out onto her bird-feeder table as quick as a flash.
“Keep ‘em going will ya,” barked a cutter.
“Ye keep ya mouth on,” yelled back another. Magus narrowed her eyes and pecked longingly at her feeder. And then, as if out of nowhere she murmured under her breath: Ash Sa so qwer a cutt a sa
The cutters somehow heard her and were afraid. They were now within sight of her. Slowly, her pale white skin transformed into a monstrous face of bloodcurdling monstrosity.
“STOP!” she bawled, her eyes glowing like lava.
“STOP CUTTING MY WOODS DOWN, YOU SCOUNDRELS!” she said the last word with a piercing sound and it burst the cutters poor eardrums.
Then, everything went white, as white as a salty cloud. In the distance, Magus could slowly see a figure striding towards her. But when the faint footsteps stopped, she could see no figure of any possible kind. Although a haunting voice said: ‘That’s why you were called Magus’ clearly. Now Magus understood. Magus was Latin for Magical!
Suddenly, Magus awoke. She was in a wood. Though it was her wood, but there was only one thing, the trees were all back in place. Magus opened her beak to speak but she could not, for she knew what had happened.