Writing.

[Legal User]

Okay my Mother wants me to read this and she asked me to post it here.

This is the FIRST draft, so there have been no edits, no do overs, nothing.

Post what you think and I will too because I have not read it yet.

The palace had been Bungle’s home for as long as he cared to remember. After coming to live with Ozma in the Royal Palace of Oz, he had enjoyed being pampered. He hadn’t exactly had time for much else. This was because a glass cat, living in the Royal Palace of the Emerald City, never tires of wandering the corridors to find precisely the exact spot where a beam of sunlight might best refract his transparent form and scatter tiny slivers of rainbow across the plush green carpets. At least, this is what Bungle believed. There were no other glass cats in the land of Oz to ask. Bungle was one of a kind, unique, or as he liked to think, irreplaceable. From the moment he arrived in the Emerald City, Bungle knew he had been destined for palace life. Why else did he need a heart made from a ruby, brains of pink tourmaline shaped like rotating marbles and emerald eyes? It was destiny.
Waking from a nap late one afternoon in a corridor not far from the grand staircase, Bungle watched a group of munchkins. Not as tall as grown adults and dressed in blue with knee breeches and stripped silk stockings, they tiptoed rather shying across the velvet carpeting.
“May I help you?” asked Bungle.
They stopped and looked at him. Then one said politely, “Oh, you must be that glass cat I’ve heard about!” The other munchkins nodded in unison also clearly recognizing Bungle as someone of importance. “The one Dr. Pipt made with the Powder of Life to help his wife catch mice. I’ve heard of you.”
“So have I,” said another munchkin with a heavy mustache. “And I also heard that you never caught any mice.”
“But, that’s why Ozma adopted you, isn’t it?” asked another munchkin. “She is a kind ruler and even the most useless and vain creatures have been well-cared since she became Queen.”
Bungle turned his spun glass tail in the air and took a running leap onto a brass hand railing, which he then strutted along slowly stepping into each beam of light. He was certain that the munchkins would apologize once they saw how delicately he caught the light. But, they were said nothing as he walked away. So, Bungle turned, walked back toward them just as purposefully, jumped from the railing and landed by their feet. He yawned.
Ignoring his performance, the munchkin with the mustache told him, “If you want to help, we are looking for the pearl conference room. The Queen is planning to hear our proposal to put up signs to warn travelers traveling through the poppy fields in our country.”
“There are some of us in Oz who cannot recognize refinement,” said Bungle a little more smugly than he had intended as he turned up his nose ever so slightly in the direction of the throne room. “Follow me.” With that, the cat bounded down the corridor. The conference rooms were located directly next to the throne room through golden doors, which were made from solid gold and inset with many precious gems, mostly emeralds. In her kindness and wisdom, Ozma understood that some of the creatures who lived in Oz, particularly those from the Quaddling Country, felt nervous discussing important matters surrounded by the incredible and stunning beauty of the palace. For this reason, the young queen had requested that comfortable, but modest rooms should be added adjacent to the throne room specifically for meeting with the visitors who might find themselves so captivated by the splendor of the palace that they forgot why they were there. Respectfully, each of the conference rooms were furnished with the colors favored by the visitors. The pearl room, where the munchkins would be meeting the queen, was packed with fluffy blue silk cushions, but first Bungle led the group into the throne room where the chandeliers sparkled and every wall was covered with mirrors inlaid with golden designs. The Solider with Green Whiskers looked surprised to see visitors in the being escorted in by the glass cat. He considered it his solemn duty to guard Ozma. Naturally, it was rare that anyone did not love the fair and wise ruler, but she was uncommonly popular and there were always more people who wanted to see her than she had time to visit with. The plume in the tall hat atop the Solider with Green Whiskers’s head swayed as he quickly approached the cat and his short, but plucky companions from the west.
Bungle saw his opportunity to impress the visitors. Darting forward across green velvet carpeting, Bungle stopped abruptly in front of the green boots worn by the Solider with Green Whiskers. He then stretched out his neck quickly making contact with his cheek, then his shoulder and following along his side rubbing affectionately until finally flicking his tail with a flourish. But, the glass cat’s plan had not unfolded in his favor. Rather than showering him with affection and praise in front of the humbled munchkins, the Solider with Green Whiskers stumbled embarrassingly into a heap in front of them. He even dropped his gun.
“Luckily it’s not loaded,” said one of the munchkins to the others who then murmured their agreement.
“And how did you know that?” demanded the man as he pulled himself up glaring at the glass cat who was trying to avoid eye contact by appearing interested only in his own reflection.
“Someone must have written about it in the Emerald City Gazette,” said one of the munchkins starring around the room, obviously eager to catch his first glimpse of the queen.
“Cats are such queer animals,” said the Solider with Green Whiskers. “Bungle, leave us at once and the next time you feel like doing my job, inform me immediately and I’ll set you right.”
Bungle was mortified. He could have disobeyed the man, because Ozma would undoubtedly let him sit on her lap as she met with the munchkins, but there’s only so much humiliation he could endure. Bungle did not want to see the smirk behind the munchkin’s thick mustache. He had been misunderstood. As is often the case for people or cats, even cats made of glass, feeling misunderstood starts with a simple misunderstanding often involving only two people, but when the person who was misunderstood is left alone without the comfort of a friend, the problem grows larger in their mind until they feel that everyone misunderstands everything about them. And Bungle was too proud to tell anyone what had happened.

[Residualgrub]

No, but its really good. 11/10 would read again

[Moose]

We won't truly know the quality of the story until Marsh reads it