Writing

Here is my latest work!


 * Good and bad days **

Thump... thump... thump thump...thump thump...thump thump thump... I held my breath as I hear my own heart beat in my ears. My eyes opened wider as she walk past. Pew... I let out a breath but too soon, the dog started barking its snout pointed to me. As my hair on the back of my neck raise I freeze. “Get Her!” I jump. I get air born, and then I hit the ground like a falling tree. Usually it takes me several minutes to recover from jumping of that two story tree but I blitz off as fast as I could. This time I really blow it, bugging my sister is one of my daily tasks especially when the toys hid them self’s. But I guess throwing berries; which stains for the rest of the white shirts time; is not good even worse it was her new shirt. My sister yelled again She’s over there so I knew that her friend was hot on my heals. I know climbing the big bird cages will get me into more trouble but they would not take me alive. As my first attempt of climbing the bird cage fails I feel the pain full wooden spoon on my back side as I hit the wooden plank on the ground. Time was running out and I now knew the bird cage would take too much time. I tried to think but now I had no choice I had to lock myself inside the bird cage. So I did but at the wrong time I remembered that the lock was broken. As I listened at the yelling and foot beats on the ground I look around, the hole in the wire was too small. I had to stand back from the door. The game was over. Why did no one tell me that you can bleach a shirt? I started crying for nothing! By Linda

The lost house As the mountains stand guard their shadows shield the meadows from the sun. The trees had their time in wind and storm for they have given in. Around the un-cared grass there are pieces of left over timbers that have been smashed of the frame by the wind. Flaxes, weeds and grass all having fun for now the gardens and fields are theirs are now theirs. The fences and posts have defended themselves well for they still stand as one together. The broken windows have caved in after the howling thrashing wind. Now there are only seven little cubes of glass felt. There would be cream walls on the wooden house but it is dirty from the mud and old stains. The red tin roof was covered in rust and corrosion with little white stains from the past years they are scattered along the roof like poker dots. No one goes to the rusted old shack. No one takes care of it any more. By Linda