Hey and welcome to another RRW. There’s just been a ton of stuff going on so our posts are a little backed up. One of projects we’ve been working on here at RRW is Aesop’s Fables New 21st Century Revised Edition. I know it sounds super official and all but it’s not a randomn house press or anything. In fact up until a month or so ago they were a random collection of outlines.
The first fable I completed, Grasshopper & the Ant is in the hands of a talented artist right now. He is about done with Illustrations and soon it will be available in e book form (though I will without a doubt, post it here also, where at least three or four people may actually read it).
Anyway. I thought for fun I would post the next story here before I send it off. The picture I am posting it with is are just to break up the page and give some color. The illustrator is doing mostly black and white line drawings like classic English Children’s Literature.
Okay so Lil Mouse and I are having a debate right now about just what I mean when I say that so and anyway, you’ll just have to wait and see. Till then I offer my take of the Pitcher & the Crow…
The Crow, The Pitcher & The Fox.
A long time ago, you may remember, there was a crow who learned to get water from a pitcher.. The pitchers mouth was too small to drink from directly. Adding a pebble at a time the crow learned that it could get a drink. It took a lot of effort but in the end the crow was rewarded.
Because of all this hard work, the crow lived to a ripe old age and had many descendants. A whole flock of crows who spent the days putting pebbles in pitchers so that they could get a drink. And though it was a lot of work, through perseverance and the old Crows motto of “Little by little does the trick” the flock prospered and grew.
One day, as happened from time to time, one of the young crows started to complain.
“Pebble after pebble after pebble…”Spotting a good size one he clutched in his beak, turned to his pitcher and dropped it in
At first none of the other crows paid him any heed. They each were busy picking out 
pebbles for their own pitcher.
“Pebble after pebble” Young Crow continued.
Pausing after a sip another Crow said to him off offhandedly “That is our way.”
Young Crow clenched another pebble between upper and lower. “Nut why?”
Saying this the newly picked pebble dropped from his beak. Aggravated he bent head side scanning the ground for it again. “Why do we do it this way?”
“Why?” “Why?” “Why?”
A number of other young crows had stopped their pitcher pebbling and as young birds often do took up the call.
“Because that is the Way.” Called the Old Flock Boss, the oldest and wisest crow, with the 
edges of his feathers turning gray
“The way!” The way!” “Way!” The older crows recawed.
All this of course had happened countless times before. Young crows were often frustrated at the slow steady pace of success. It took the older crows to keep them working toward the goal, for the good of the flock, together. The way the Fore crow had taught them. The young crows cawed why, the old crows answered because it is The Way, and things continued on as usual.
But not this time. Thinking to himself there must be an easier way he clutched a larger pebble. “Atch dis” he said to all and no crow in particular and dropped it into his pitcher.
At least that had been his plan. The old crows chuckled as it bounced off the lip, too large to fit down the spout.
With one eye he stared the old crows down while searching for an even larger pebble with the other. “Or perhaps a stone this time?”
He eyed one rock nearly a quarter the size of his head, then one yet larger still just beyond it.
“I will use that rock yonder to smash a large enough hole in my pitcher…” Proclaimed Young Crow. “That I will be able to fit my whole head in.”
The old Crows laughed and returned to their own work, picking out pebbles, filling their 
pitchers. But many of the other young crows were pausing to watch. The old ones did nothing to interfere. Once in a rare while things like this occurred. A young crow thought he’d found a better way. Eventually they would return to the pebble, it always sorted itself out in the end.
Young Crow in the mean time had flapped the short distance and squared himself in position near the big rock. He tried again and again to lift it and carry it with his beak. But could only manage a wobbly step or two before the rock dropped. Exhausted he paused, ignoring the chuckles of the older crows.
“Don’t worry I can do it.” He told the other young crows, some who were already starting to lose interest. Young Crow didn’t want that, he liked the other young crows suddenly looking up to him. “This rock’s sure to do the trick.”
“Oh I think you will need a much bigger rock.” Called a voice from across the meadow.
All the crows heads bobbed up as one to see a sleek Fox leaning against a far tree.
None of the crows worried overmuch about Fox as he could not fly.
“Aww whaddya you know.” Said Young Crow. And grabbing the rock in his beak jerked upward with all his might. Young Crow clenched his beak as tightly as he could but the rocks momentum tore it from his bite and it sailed in a long arc up and over the pitcher. All the other young crows gasped in amazement.
“Just missed!” Young Crow exclaimed as if he had planned to do that all along.
Many of the old crows cackled and squawked.
Young Crow hopped to retrieve the rock he’d thrown.
Fox meandered a little closer to watch as Young Crow clenched the rock in his beak and gave it a good throw, not as hard as last time mind you as Young Crow was not entirely without craftiness. The other young ones gave a shout as it sailed.
If you’re interested the rest of the story can be found here
Random Writes & Rongs 