I was tidying up my bedside table today (insert gasps of shock from the readers at the thought of Shannon voluntarily tidying anything here) and found a notebook. Only two pages had been written on. It was a story. Last year Phoenix had woken up from a rare nap and had found me industrially scribbling away at a short story in my notebook. He expressed to me that he wished that he could write down stories when he thought of them, but he didn't know how to write yet. So I told him that whenever he had an idea for a story, to tell me, and I would write it for him. The following is the story that he proceeded to tell me, and I wrote in "his" notebook.
Superfriends Story by Phoenix
Once upon a time, there was a bunch of people called the Superfriends. They were superheroes and friends, and that's why they were called the Superfriends. One day they went for a walk in the forest. It was called the Warm Forest.
Captain Cold was up in a tree and he froze them but he missed. Superman threw a rock at the tree and it fell on Captain Cold and he was trapped. He was there for ages and ages and ages and ages and ages. It was five whole days. And then you know what happened? Captain Cold's team came and started throwing trees at the Superfriends. But they missed because they all flew away. Well, some of them flew away, and some ran, because not all of them can fly. The Flash runs. He runs really fast.
So they ran and flew away and they came to a big ditch. They all jumped over it. Then Captain Cold and his friends came and they jumped over the ditch too. And then you know what happened?
There was a big ball, a big rock ball, that fell from I don't know where, and made another big ditch and the Superfriends jumped to the other side, but it was too big for the bad guys. So then the Superfriends went home and had lunch.
Just goes to show that literary genius can start at any age.