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Hello, this is Natasha, and I’m here with a story about Katie, who is an ordinary girl, but there is just one thing that is rather unusual about her. She’s a witch and she can do magic tricks. Katie’s Grandmother had all sorts of beautiful, but rather old fashioned, magical things. Many of them weren’t so useful these days, because science has caught up with magic in so many ways. For instance, before electric kettles were invented, witches had magic cauldrons that boiled the water without any need to put them on the fire.

It was summer. The school year had almost come to an end, and everyone was looking forward to the long holidays. In fact, everyone would have been really, really happy, except for one thing. Before the holidays, they had to do exams. And nobody likes to do exams, unless they are the swottiest of swots. And Katie didn’t think that exams were at all nice. No matter how good you are at magic, you still have to remember things for yourself.

At the dawn of time, Susano-o, the spirit of the sea and storms, was making ready to leave heaven and to gush down to Earth. His sister, the far-shining Sun Goddess, said, “Oh, impetuous brother of mine. Before you go, let us exchange tokens of our love and affection for one another.” Susano-o bowed to his sister, drew his sword from his side, and presented it to her. She accepted the gift, and then chewed off pieces of the metal blade in her mouth, before spitting them out.

Animals of the woods, listen to the Manifesto of Peace. No animal shall eat another. This is Richard, and I’m here with a fable by Aesop, that Bertie has brought up to date for Storynory. Mr. Fox was strolling through the woods when he noticed a plump hen sitting on the branch of a tree. “Ah,” he said to himself. “Lunch.” But he did not say that aloud. No, he was far too cunning to show what he was really thinking. Instead, he said, “Good day to you, my lovely lady. May the angel of peace be upon you.

A rich woman sat up late carding wool while her children and servants slept. A knock came at the door and a voice said: “Open! Open!” “Who’s there?” said the woman of the house. “I am the witch of the one horn,” came the answer. Against her better judgement, the mistress felt compelled to get up and open the door. A woman entered - but Mary! What a strange woman she was, for a horn grew out of her forehead! She sat down in silence by the fire and began to card thread with violent haste. Eventually she said: “Where are the others?

Once upon a time there was an old man, an old woman, and a little boy. One morning the old woman made some gingerbread in the shape of a man. She added icing for his hair and clothes, and little blobs of dough for his nose and eyes. When she put him in the oven to bake, she said to the little boy, "You watch the gingerbread man while your grandfather and I go out to work in the garden." So the old man and the old woman went out and began to dig potatoes, and left the little boy to tend the oven. And he started to day dream, and didn’t watch it all of the time.

A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn sacks to the mill loyally for many a long year; but his strength was going, and he was growing more and more unfit for work. His master began to wonder if it was worth his while by keeping this old donkey much longer. The donkey, seeing that no good wind was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to Bremen. “There,” he thought, “I can surely be a town musician.” When he had walked some distance, he found a dog lying on the road, gasping like one who had run until he was tired.

We bring you this sad but, we hope, beautiful story in verse. Orpheus the musician married Eurydice the shepherdess. When she was killed by a snake, he travelled down to the underworld and was granted one chance to fetch her back to life. Bertie has freely adapted this ancient tale into his own poem. Yes, we did warn you, it is sad. Adaptation by Bertie. Read by Richard.

It was Shrove Tuesday, otherwise known as pancake day. The City Mayor was sitting up in his bed eating his breakfast – a big pile of pancakes with black caviar and sour cream, washed down with champagne. As he took another silver-spoonful of caviar, his mobile phone rang. How he hated it when people called him while he was still at breakfast! He was about to throw his phone out of the window when he noticed that the call was coming from the Chief Of Police. “Oh dear,” thought the Mayor. “He probably wants to miss our card game.

Long ago, in Japan, there was a boy who was training to be a monk. He lived in the small temple at the end of the village. Every morning, at quarter to four, he woke up to the sound of a bell rung by the old priest. His first task of the day was to sit with the priest and chant the poem known as Zazen Wasan: All living beings come from Buddhas. Just as it is with ice and water There is no ice without water There are no Buddhas without living beings The chanting was followed by a lesson called Sansen. After a bowl of rice for breakfast, the boy set to work cleaning or gardening.