An open collection by Anni McHenry

Small Stories

for the child in all of us

Brief tales about quiet knowing, wild belonging, and the ways a living world speaks before anyone explains it.

01Everything Was a Little Wild
02One Bark
03A Snake Named Jake

Story 01

Everything Was a Little Wild

The world knew her name.

Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived on a farm.

She rode horses, chased chickens, and sometimes ran from snakes by the spring-fed pond.

The cats were wild, the dogs were mutts, and no one ever brushed her hair.

She rose with the sun, bare feet in rubber boots, not to feed but to feel a world wake.

The horses would snort and stomp, impatient for her climb.

The chickens squawk annoyed at being chased yet still they never learned.

The pond was always cool and quiet, holder of secrets for the girl who never asked.

She didn’t mind the tangled hair.
Or mud on her knees.
Or the way the wind always seemed to know her name.

Because on that farm, everything was a little wild—
and so was she.

Story 02

One Bark

He had already said what he meant.

The morning was quiet. Even the fences seemed asleep.

Atlas lay in his yard, watching the sidewalk.

Then someone turned the corner.

Atlas lifted his head. He saw.

“Woof,” said Atlas. Just one.

A little dog heard him through the fence.

“Bark!” cried the little dog.

“Bark bark!” answered another.

The sound leapt from yard to yard until the whole block was barking at once.

Atlas did not bark again. He had already said what he needed to say:

I see you.

The walker smiled and kept going.

One by one, the little dogs ran out of barks.

The street grew quiet.

Atlas lay down. He was still watching.

The big dog knew.
And that was enough.

Story 03

A Snake Named Jake

The whole house was waiting.

A snake named Jake, a mischievous one,
Escaped from his cage in search of some fun.
He slithered through the house, with no time to waste—
A secret adventure was waiting to taste.

With a flick of his tongue, he explored the hall,
Curtains for climbing and paintings on the wall.
In the bathroom, he peered in the toilet bowl,
Then turned himself round. That was not his goal.

Next came the bedroom, where he made his bed.
In a nest of blankets, he hid his head.
But morning crept close. Jake knew his fate:
Back to the cage before it was too late.

With a chuckle and hiss, he slithered on back—
No footsteps behind him, no trace of his track.
He curled up content, as still as could be,
With a whole house of secrets for company.

A living collection

For what children know before the world teaches them not to.

These stories trust the knowledge inside small encounters: the child who belongs to the wild world, the dog who sees before the neighborhood reacts, and the snake who discovers a whole house by slipping beyond the boundary drawn around him.

Collection note One Bark returned from an earlier Obsidian vault state. A Snake Named Jake was developed from a handwritten 2023 story preserved inside private family correspondence. The sources remain distinct; their return keeps the collection growing.