- GET PUBLISHED
Frances C. Richmond Middle School
To whom this may concern (only keep reading if you feel it pertains to your life):
"For homework this evening, in conclusion of our ancient greek unit, we will be making collages of our greek alphabet flash cards!" I remembered the assignment completely. Still, I sat there in front of my supplies, somehow profoundly irritated. My eyes settled on the scissors. That was it. They were missing something. I picked them up, letting the garish pink plastic ease into my palm. I snipped the hair. I grinned maniacally.
"SNIPPETY-SNIP SNIP SNIP!" I screamed, overcome with hysteria.
Then I died.
I tossed the bottle out the window, watching it sparkle in the afternoon sunlight. It wasn’t a beautiful blue-glass bottle, and it didn’t have a cork.
"Dina? are you sure this is the best way to go about this?" Paulie hinted, nearly collapsing under the weight.
Dina smiled impishly. "The sooner you throw it, the sooner we can find out." she hefted the parcel. "3...2...1.."
The two packages, after first crashing into the mucky river, bobbed up to the surface.
Paulie leaped back in fear. His eyes widened. Dina laughed.
"I told you. A pound of feathers is equal to a pound of rocks. " she condescended.
The French town of Grelé is tucked up against Mont Glace like a young child to his or her mother. It is at a high elevation, and the farming is poor. Grelé is a town so small that the Gestapo don’t even bother occupying it. The town is relatively safe, so the children can run about the town square like nothing is amiss. The adults don’t bother explaining to them the war. They will learn soon enough. And children of the war grow too quickly.
The Rabbits thought we'd hear their cry
For justice, lest in vain they die,
They lived for us, the world, to see
But then they learned, when they were set free,
The world always lets us live and deny.
It would be wrong to say that Addie was alone. However, Philip was only an apple, and, however offended he might be at this, he did not count. It was just Addie and Philip in the tunnel. It was plastic, and cold, but it felt secret and safe, so they sat. Addie spoke to Philip of small things, like the other apples on the apple tree, and big things, like how to go about obtaining wings. This was a favorite of Philip's, who steadfastly claimed that if one could catch a bird, it would know and all would be well.
The Pail was on a string,
It moved forward with a little cling,
And as it moved along,
It seemed to sing a little song
Of course I knew pails could sing.
Though I found his red hair quite enticing,
That was probably just a bit of cake icing
How else, after all, would he smell like a cupcake
And find that myself, quite willing to frustrate,
Would claim that why he was so enticing was the icing
Elle whistled as she began to unloud her space transport, Frederick. Frederick was old and rusted and dependable as bread. A stranger approached as she locked Frederick with a bulky length of chain. She tucked a stray lock of dirty (no, really, there was dirt on it.) blonde hair back into her long braid.
"Hello? Can I help you?" she called.
The stranger stepped forward mysteriously. "Actually, I believe I can be of help to you," the mysterious stranger responded in an equally mysterious voice.