Hu'ul & her Horsey
A Petite Story By Ann Crystal
Supernatural Fantasy
Art by Ann Crystal
#petitestoriesbyAnnCrystal
The following Petite Story is based on a character from the second part of my, House of Juan Novella Duology (copyrighted).
This is a standalone Petite Story. No other reading is needed to enjoy.
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“When the otherworldly tinkle of a bell sounds, be forwarned of the man named Peyton Warwick.“
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Halloween is here!?! Someone hit pause, this year is just speeding along way too fast!
Following this post, I will be posting the last Petite Story for awhile. I hope everyone has enjoyed my Petite Stories this Halloween season 2025.
I made this forthcoming Petite Story a bit longer than usual as a Halloween special.
Littens of Litsy, hope you all have a Spooky Fun Halloween!
🎃✍🏼👻💃🪄💫💛🧡🤍📚.
#petitestories
#petitestoriesbyAnnCrystal
Not A Fairy! Not A Gnome?
A Petite Story By Ann Crystal
Fantasy
Art by Ann Crystal
#petitestoriesbyAnnCrystal
Somewhere in history, their name and story has been lost.
Not a fairy, not a gnome, yet they are often mistaken for these mystical spirits if someone is lucky enough to catch a glimpse.
Where they haunt hints about who they are, for it is books that summon these tiny people.
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Ghost In The Kitchen
A Petite Story By Ann Crystal
Based on a True Story
Art by Ann Crystal
#petitestoriesbyAnnCrystal
During Christmas time, a neighbor brought cookies that she gifted Lilac and her daughter, Delilah Ann with each and every year.
The neighbor, Lucy always gave her cookies on a fancy Holiday dish that Lilac waited to return each following Christmas.
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The Eclectic Collector
A Petite Story By Ann Crystal
Inspired by a True Story
Photograph by Ann Crystal
#petitestoriesbyAnnCrystal
Lilac and her daughter, Delilah Ann loved hunting for second-hand treasures. Antique, vintage, or items of nostalgia are the things that captured their interests.
Two, little whimsical Nun statuettes were perfect for Lilac's personal eclectic collection.
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A Cat & Her Witch
A Petite Story By Ann Crystal
A Story of Fantasy
Art by Ann Crystal
#petitestoriesbyAnnCrystal
I am a Cat who is on her last life. Just to be clear, the nine lives legend is a bit more complicated than humans fathom.
We Cats receive nine lives to reincarnate as a Feline...after that, we either move on to the grand reward or get ourselves reborn as a Bird, or a Lizard, or a Mouse, you get the idea.
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#petitestories
I am not beginning a member's writers group, only because I would likely make a terrible host 😂...this is just for fun.
Just wanted to create this hashtag and share with Littens.
I will be posting short, petite stories now and again through October. I'm going to focus on fun, fantasy, hopeful, or inspiring tales.
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Thank You @debinhawaii for #5JoysFriday 💕🌺💖
1- It is October 🌬️🌳🍃🪄🍂. The start of the Holiday's are here 🎃👻🦅🎄🔔.
2- @bookwormjillk second #Readathon, #TurnThePage seems to have compelled me back into the worlds of books! I am finally able to focus again on my current reads, and I'm back on my regular, daily reading schedule 📚🥳💝. Thank's Bookwormjillk 😉👍🏼📚💝.
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The Power Of The Lady
A Petite Story By Ann Crystal
Art by Ann Crystal
#petitestoriesbyAnnCrystal
The Lady could always feel the shift before it happens. It has happened before. Generally the shift in weight is barely noticeable, but there have been times when the weight causes an almost intolerable imbalance.
Yet it is usually this Woman's obligation to wait and assess, to give the imbalance a chance to even out and restore equality.
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The children always began a story about the ghost of the racist cowboy by reciting those words.
I enjoyed listening to the stories that were swopped like trading cards, even if I did not believe in the cowboy ghost who was said to haunt the Rez kids, teens, and young woman from First Nations across America.
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2w
The diner I worked at was a gathering hub, and the school kids were just storming in one mid-afternoon when I noticed my kid sister did not join the usual table where a crowd of kids shared Peyton Warwick stories.
“Never would have believed you'd skip a chance at hearing a new Peyton Warwick story,“ I told my sister Linda.
Her twelve-year old eyes looked up at me, “Guess I'm just not interested in storytelling right now.“
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2w
I gasped and dramatically glanced around, “Better hope Hu'ul Mariana didn't hear you say that!“
Linda smiled softly.
Our Tohono O'odham, maternal grandmother had raised my sister and I until her death two years ago. Thankfully I was old enough to become my sister's legal guardian.
“I meant that I'm just interested in the cowboy anymore,“ Linda clarified.
****
By the time closing came, the diner was deserted.
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2w
The front, exterior of the diner had some lighting from a small lamp post. It was really the only source of light around for miles.
The diner was not exactly in the middle of nowhere, but at ten o'clock during a night without even a moon, the place felt utterly remote.
After locking the diner's door, I turned to find Linda peering around the right side of the building. Just standing, staring into the darkness of night.
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2w
“Linda?“ I called. I was walking towards my sister when I heard a bell and froze just as I reached Linda's side, who was still staring into the darkness.
The bell rung again.
“Go!“ I could only manage the single word.
My blue Ford Pinto, which I had inherited from my Hu'ul Mariana, was parked under the light post in front of the diner.
Twenty steps never felt like such an incredible distance.
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2w
I pushed my sister further in front of me as heavy footsteps sounded from behind and hot breath caressed the back of my neck.
With my keys threaded between the fingers of my right hand, I swung around to slash at whoever was trailing so closely.
No one was there.
Deeply grunted laughter echoed in seemingly every direction.
Linda had paused directly behind me.
“Get in through the driver's side,“ I told her. “Hurry!“
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2w
“Start the car!“ Linda scream before I even had the chance to tug close the driver's door. Then I realized that the car would not start. “Start the car!“ Linda demanded again.
“I'm trying!“ I shouted.
That little lamp post outside blinked off then on again.
We froze.
“Crap, there must be a leak,“ I said when a foul odor crept into the car.
We covered our noses with our hands as the lamp post blinked again.
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2w
“Do you see him?“ Linda whispered, staring through the front window.
“Who?“ I asked, failing to see anyone.
“Peyton Warwick,“ the light blinked just as Linda spoke the name, and in that second I did see someone.
Someone who was darker than the moonless night. Someone who had an unmistakable outline of a cowboy.
Someone who stood right in front of our Ford Pinto, but could only be seen when the light blinked off.
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2w
“This can't be happening,“ I yelled out, “Peyton Warwick is just a fictional character.“
The light blinked, then again, and over and again repeatedly until the light slowly dimmed and died.
Darkness enveloped the Ford Pinto as Linda reached for my hand.
We were silent, both of our eyes locked on the specter. Waiting for something to happen.
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2w
The chemical smell became nearly unbearable until a new smell wafted in and chased the foulness away.
“Is that-“ I began to ask.
“White Sage!“ Linda said.
“Old indian woman,“ Peyton Warwick's voice crackled with annoyance, “you've got no power against me.“
“Says the cowardly cowboy.“
Linda and I twisted in our seats at the sound of our Hu'ul Mariana's voice.
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2w
Hu'ul was seated in the center of the back seat, her sweet smile silently assuring us that all would be well.
“He feeds off fear, my girls,“ Hu'ul said. “Now start Horsey and drive forward with caution and confidence.“ Horsey was Hu'ul Mariana's name for her Ford Pinto.
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2w
I did not want to take my eyes off my Hu'ul, but I knew that I should do as instructed. Relieved when the sweet sound of Horsey's engine roared to life and that Peyton Warwick vanished when the headlights snapped on.
“Hu'ul!“ My grandmother was gone.
“Hu'ul faded away,“ Linda words held the sudden sadness I felt.
“I am always with you, my girls,“ Hu'ul voice sounded, “as are all your ancestors.“
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2w
My sister and I drove forward that night, forward without fear.
#petitestories
2w