A short story from my Ripple Town series! 
Feedback and questions are welcome!Molly Moose spotted a conch that was suspiciously hopping along the dusty road. “Hoy… Are you a conch? So far from the sea?” The conch nodded and replied, “Hoy moose. Tell me, is this the road to Ripple Town?” Molly looked around, “Why, yes it is. Ripple Town is where I am headed, would you like to join me on my walk?” The conch swooshed about, saying, “I only hop, but I would be happy to hop while you walk.” This seemed like a fair compromise, so they set off down the road together.
Looking around, the conch said, “It’s awfully funny to be on a road. What are those sea weeds that grow on either side?” “Oh, those are land weeds, we call them lemon trees, and they grow for miles around Ripple Town. Sometimes the lemons run free and we have to take shelter.” Molly tried shaking a lemon tree and the lemons wobbled precariously, as the conch looked worried.
A little ways ahead they could see a lion sitting on the road. “I would like an umbrella to spin and spin, on the roof tops in the rain,” said Lorm the Lion to a large rock, but the rock did not respond. As Molly and the conch approached he offered them some toast. They thanked him, “Why thank you lion, everyone loves toast! Perhaps you would like to join us on our way to Rippl…” Molly started, before noticing Lorm had fallen asleep; so they left him be.
“As a conch I am known to hop,” explained the conch after a long silence. “I hop to many places. Sometimes to lunch, and sometimes to trains, and sometimes to museum exhibits, and sometimes to the dentist. All these reasons to come and go; they bob past like days and dreams.” “That’s true,” Molly nodded in agreement as they stopped at an old stone crypt. The conch looked sad and said, “This is the end of my journey.”
Just then, the crypt opened and Melanie the Mummy stepped out grinning. “Hoy conch, thank you for coming to my birthday party, who is your friend?” “I’m Molly Moose, and I’m on my way to Ripple Town!” “Please come in for refreshments,” Melanie cackled as she ushered them towards a group of thirsty spiders talking about tax returns.
The crypt was full of crypt toys, each beautifully painted with eyes and parrots and swords. Melanie gestured at the labyrinth of glittering trinkets, brooding doors, and glowing crystals all around. “Would you like a tour? It goes on forever!” “Oh, that sounds wonderful, but I must be leaving soon,” nodded Molly. “You are a lot like this crypt Molly Moose, full of wishes for your next life; don’t let them get dusty!” Melanie winked, before joining the other guests dancing to the Bangles. Everyone, including the conch, gathered outside and waved and cried when Molly left, and she felt herself mourning too, after the stone door clunked shut behind her.
It was dark now, the sky was a deep purple, and the streetlamps were glowing orange as Molly walked on alone. A shadowy figure loomed out of the darkness singing, “Sitting in the garden by a maple door, I’ve gathered up the apricots and put them in the store; and while a hungry harvest is sometimes not much fun, I’m glad to have my apricots when summertime is done.” Molly smiled, “Ah, Gatherer Grim, you are working late.” “I am always working,” nodded Gatherer Grim as he floated away into the eternal haze of the night.
Molly stood under the stars that danced around the moon, and said, “Hoy moon, how far is it to Ripple Town?” And the moon replied, “Towns don’t exist dear Molly, they are made from actions, and shapes, and trains that weave like worms to the future.” “But moon! I want to go home and play video games.” Molly waited, but the moon only smiled, as the lemon trees softly hummed a lemon tune in the cool wind.
It was a good tune, and Molly found herself vibing down the road, until she found a pomegranate tree that was vibing too. They talked about what it was like to be a tree, but Molly couldn’t shake the feeling that sometimes the tree looked an awful lot like a crocodile and asked, “Are you, in fact, a crocodile?” And the tree said, “I am a Pomegranate Crocodile Tree!” Molly said she had never heard of such a thing, and the tree laughed, “Well now you have, also your bus is here!”
The pomegranate crocodile tree was right; as they had been talking, the first bus to Ripple Town had stopped nearby, and they both waved, as Molly climbed on board. The sun was just glowing over the horizon when the bus stopped again, and standing in the market square, where the seagulls do their squats, Molly grinned and said, “I am in Ripple Town!”
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