It feels like I haven't written anything in forever...
Anyway, I have recently gotten into The Lorax Fandom, and as a result decided to write some drabbles.
Disclaimer:I do not own The Lorax.


1. Foreign

It was still a foreign feeling to The Once-ler.

The feeling of being a success, the feeling of approval, the feeling of his giant office. As he sat in his ridiculous high backed chair, he pondered on how he'd gone from a nobody living in a breathtaking forest, to where he was now.

What's more, as he looked at the vast space, he wondered if he was any better off. The ceiling felt too high even for his tall frame, and the pictures of him that stared down from the wall looked at him with eyes he didn't recognize.

2. Fluke

His thneed could of landed anywhere as it made it's haphazard path through the air. Could have fallen into a bush or tangled in a tree, or merely landed on the grass.

Yet it didn't.

It alighted upon a girl's head, who up til that moment had been reading her book uninterrupted.

He knew nothing of her personality or background. She was simply a sandy haired girl, shy and quiet, who had never really fit in. A girl his invention had helped.

She was the girl that had ignited interest in his invention.

Yet he didn't even know her name.

3. Tumbling

He hadn't fallen head over heels, though fall he did.

Instead they fell in a haphazard heap, The Once-ler sprawled on his back as he looked up at the brunette on top of him.

Her honey colored eyes held annoyance as well as embarrassment, but she'd quickly shaken it off, pushing herself off of him and offering him her hand.

Her yellow sun dress was crumpled, her tall brown boots slightly scuffed. Curls flared out around her shoulders.

Even as she apologized, there was amusement crackling in her eyes. He hoped he'd see her again.

Her name was Norma.

4. Chair

The Once-ler eyed the high backed chair skeptically.

"Well Oncie, what do you think?" asked his mother.

The chair was plush, a rich crimson color.

Even as tall as he was it towered over him. He glanced from the chair to his mother hesitating.

"I don't know..." he said slowly. "Don't you think it's a bit over the top?"

He felt like shrinking as his mother shot him a look that said, 'Oncie, You're just being silly, difficult, and childish.' It was demeaning, as though he couldn't be trusted to make his own decisions.

He couldn't make himself argue.


Please leave me some reviews or word prompts. ^_^