Stories

Dancing On Sunday They were just a bunch of big stones, after all. Twelve of them, as tall as people, standing in a circle. So what was all the fuss about? They were stones. They had always been stones. Then I touched one. And it was warm. I patted it. It was rough, like Dad’s … Read more

Stones Can’t Dance The dancing stones. That’s what Nan called them. “But stones can’t dance,” said Kelly. She’s my sister. “Stones can’t dance,” she said.   I’m Ben, by the way. Ben and Kelly. We sound like a brand of ice cream. What was Mum thinking about when she picked our names? What was she … Read more