"Three Hundred and Fifty Years of Knowledge" by imogenweasley He was the Brain Tree. Strange as it may sound, the only mystery he had never been able to completely unveil had to do with himself. He knew nothing of his own origin. He knew how old he was and the date of his birthday with the help of complicated calculations, but the reason behind his existence and the source of his intelligence were unknown, even to him. Sometimes, when he racked his brain and tried to force the earliest memory he could remember...
Linger The grinding must have been the tomb door opening, and I didn't feel like hanging around for a few days to scare some other small, fluffy Neopian. I had better things to do with my time...
Message In A Bottle The sand was golden, shining, and caressed Chello's feet as she walked along the beach. She sighed happily. This was the life. It was so peaceful here, so serene...
Dear Crabby: I Hate You All Apparently this week is Issue 350, and according to my editor, that's some big event. All of the columnists are supposed to write celebration-themed articles. To this I say, "Pbbbth."
Why YOU Should Write for the Neopian Times But why exactly do these NT writers continually get works published in the NT? Surely it's not just their love for Neopia, right?
Pride, Prose, and Princes: Part Six I sighed happily, and after one last look, slipped the stack of papers into a large brown envelope. I'd take it to the copier's later...
Vinsetta: Part Four "What brings you out into the Haunted Woods on a night like this?" asked Hane. The Halloween Bori looked at the two friends with concerned eyes. "You should be somewhere warm and safe..."