Writing Friday #9: Free Write
Lacrosse
Lacrosse. A passion of mine. The second I reach the lacrosse field, I am filled with a rush of excitement, feeling the tension before the game begins. The aroma of fresh lacrosse balls and grass fills the air, giving a spring taste to everything it touches. The minute I throw my equipment on, I feel like I am invincible. As the game begins, I squat down and take in everything around me, from the intense silence coming from the stands, to my teamates, all ready to erupt into a sprint. The blow of the whistle blasts through the air as my opponent and I charge at each other, fighting to take the ball. The game has just begun.
As the attackmen recieve the ball and run up the field, the defenders move back, trying to protect their goal at all costs. "Mustang!" The strategy pops into my head instantaneously as I trail my teamate in posession with the ball. As he fakes a pass to my teamate on the otherside of the field, I move up to recieve the real pass. The second I feel the ball fall into my lacrosse stick's head, I snap my arm back, readying myself to rip a large shot into the goal. I am unaware that a large defensemen is charging towards me, and hardly let go of the ball before I feel myself flying through the air. I feel I have just failed my team. I let a careless error of not paying attention to my surroundings snag an easy goal from me. But why do I hear chearing? I look up in puzzlement, but feel joy leap through my body as I see the goalie staring back at the ball which had just landed in the goal. These events had just happened in the first 11 seconds of the game. Happily, I think to myself, "I still have 3,000 more seconds to shoot just as much goals." The final score: 15-0. A complete shutout.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Writing Friday #13: Narrative: Personal (For Issue Two of The Crusader)
Writing Friday #13: Narrative: Personal
(For issue Two of The Crusader)
Swoosh! The sound of the small rubber ball hitting the mesh of my lacrosse stick. Running,sweating, and panting, I turn around and see two largely figured boys charging full speed at me. These are the thoughts I think about everyday. Though I am interested in many sports, one sport stands above all others: lacrosse. One of the reasons why I may be so obsessed about this sport is because of my family, who all find the sport of lacrosse very enjoyable. This is why our house is packed with multiple lacrosse items, such as poles and heads. I am constantly motivated by the sport of lacrosse, always finding time to practice against walls or with friends. Playing lacrosse has almost become second nature to me, finding myself twirling shovels around as if I were cradling. What truly makes me drawn to this sport is a mystery though. Maybe it's because I like the idea of contact, or maybe it's because I like all the action in the sport. No matter what the reason is, lacrosse has become a love for me and will hopefully stay that way forever.
(For issue Two of The Crusader)
Swoosh! The sound of the small rubber ball hitting the mesh of my lacrosse stick. Running,sweating, and panting, I turn around and see two largely figured boys charging full speed at me. These are the thoughts I think about everyday. Though I am interested in many sports, one sport stands above all others: lacrosse. One of the reasons why I may be so obsessed about this sport is because of my family, who all find the sport of lacrosse very enjoyable. This is why our house is packed with multiple lacrosse items, such as poles and heads. I am constantly motivated by the sport of lacrosse, always finding time to practice against walls or with friends. Playing lacrosse has almost become second nature to me, finding myself twirling shovels around as if I were cradling. What truly makes me drawn to this sport is a mystery though. Maybe it's because I like the idea of contact, or maybe it's because I like all the action in the sport. No matter what the reason is, lacrosse has become a love for me and will hopefully stay that way forever.
Writing Friday #4: Narrative: Fictional
Writing Friday #4: Narrative: Fictional
The Shoe, the Shoemaker, and the Golden Foot
Prologue
This is a story about a enchanted shoe that belonged to an extremely magical and cruel foot. The foot belonged to a man known as Nike, and was the most sweet-smelling and athletic foot of all time. However, this foot was not any old foot; this foot was the, "Golden Foot." The shoe to fit this foot was perfectly made. It was covered in white leather, and the backside had intricate designs that were skillfully crafted. On the bottom of the shoe were shock absorbers, which would propel you multiple feet into the air. This was definitely not the average shoe either.
The Shoe, the Shoemaker, and the Golden Foot
A tree house. This is where this story begins. The grey shoemaker had always created plain leather shoes; that was until one faithful day. On a bright, autumn day, the old shoemaker was leisurely strolling home to his tree house. There he found a package on the door, with a letter on it which read, "Dear Shoemaker. Here I encase this amazing ingredient to making the perfect shoe. I know you will use it well." No name. The shoemaker slowly ripped through the neatly packaged box to reveal the softest, shiniest, and most flexible leather he had ever seen. He knew what he would have to do. Quickly setting to work, the shoemaker soon began crafting what would be known as the best shoe of all time. Almost the day after the shoes had been crafted, a very intriguing customer arrived at the door. The thing that was so interesting about the man that came in was his feet. Instead of having normal feet, this man's bare feet boasted a luminous color of gold. He introduced himself as Nike. Menacingly smiling, the man said, "Old man, I would like to bargain for those shoes of yours. How about this, in exchange for your shoes, I will let you keep your life." As he said this, his feet grew to an immense size, sprouting golden spikes along his toes. Frightened, the weak and frail shoemaker gave the shoes to the man, stating that leather was not something giving up his life on. Laughing harshly, Nike penetrated through the shoemaker's heart with his spiked foot. He never planned on keeping the old fool alive in the first place. Nike's feet soon returned to a normal size, and he put the shoes on. As the shoes tied themselves, Nike ran, vanishing out the door.
Nike was the fastest man in the world, running at a top speed of 120 MPH. When he wanted shoes, he demanded the best. Even when Nike was jogging, the best shoes would become ripped from the fast impact. These shoes that he had just bought were special. No matter where Nike ran, be it the mountains, the desert, or the jungle, the shoes stayed spotless and unflawed. "These are going to be keepers," Nike thought to himself. He got them customized so they would have the logo, “Nike,” on the side. He added gel in the heels, and put the most comfortable material in the the inside. He then put them onto his golden foot and never took them off again. At least, that's what everyone thought.
The shoes, who barely had any idea what was going on, felt happy. All they knew were that they were being used. After a long day of running, they were taken off and put under Nike’s bed. They soon found out about their user from some of the other shoes there. They talked about different materials for shoes, different wearers, and many other things. They also told the shoe about how Nike rips up his shoes when he runs. Also, they heard about Nike’s magic socks that teleport him anywhere he wants. The next day, Nike got out of bed and put his shoes back on. He went outside and played basketball for a little while. The shoes soon found out how fun it was to play sports. He took many jump shots so it felt like the shoes were flying through the air. The shoe all of a sudden remembered about Nike’s cruel habits. Deciding it would be best to run for it, the shoes stole away on one of Nike’s jump shots and slipped off his feet, hopping off into the world.
The shoes gradually found their way to FedEx Field, the home of the Redskins. They started to play football. They were tried on by Clinton Portis, Santana Moss, Antwaan Randle El, and Fred Smoot. They took so much use that they were the happiest shoes in the world. The only thing shoes were afraid of was if they ripped. Other than that, they would want to be used as much as possible. Shortly after football, they found themselves in the middle of a lacrosse championship. Then, they walked on the red carpet. They did not know how all of this was happening. They finally realized that when they jumped off of Nike’s feet, the socks came out also. In other words, the shoes had been traveling around through the centuries and were now in the possession of a boy known as Marcus Leanos.
The Shoe, the Shoemaker, and the Golden Foot
Prologue
This is a story about a enchanted shoe that belonged to an extremely magical and cruel foot. The foot belonged to a man known as Nike, and was the most sweet-smelling and athletic foot of all time. However, this foot was not any old foot; this foot was the, "Golden Foot." The shoe to fit this foot was perfectly made. It was covered in white leather, and the backside had intricate designs that were skillfully crafted. On the bottom of the shoe were shock absorbers, which would propel you multiple feet into the air. This was definitely not the average shoe either.
The Shoe, the Shoemaker, and the Golden Foot
A tree house. This is where this story begins. The grey shoemaker had always created plain leather shoes; that was until one faithful day. On a bright, autumn day, the old shoemaker was leisurely strolling home to his tree house. There he found a package on the door, with a letter on it which read, "Dear Shoemaker. Here I encase this amazing ingredient to making the perfect shoe. I know you will use it well." No name. The shoemaker slowly ripped through the neatly packaged box to reveal the softest, shiniest, and most flexible leather he had ever seen. He knew what he would have to do. Quickly setting to work, the shoemaker soon began crafting what would be known as the best shoe of all time. Almost the day after the shoes had been crafted, a very intriguing customer arrived at the door. The thing that was so interesting about the man that came in was his feet. Instead of having normal feet, this man's bare feet boasted a luminous color of gold. He introduced himself as Nike. Menacingly smiling, the man said, "Old man, I would like to bargain for those shoes of yours. How about this, in exchange for your shoes, I will let you keep your life." As he said this, his feet grew to an immense size, sprouting golden spikes along his toes. Frightened, the weak and frail shoemaker gave the shoes to the man, stating that leather was not something giving up his life on. Laughing harshly, Nike penetrated through the shoemaker's heart with his spiked foot. He never planned on keeping the old fool alive in the first place. Nike's feet soon returned to a normal size, and he put the shoes on. As the shoes tied themselves, Nike ran, vanishing out the door.
Nike was the fastest man in the world, running at a top speed of 120 MPH. When he wanted shoes, he demanded the best. Even when Nike was jogging, the best shoes would become ripped from the fast impact. These shoes that he had just bought were special. No matter where Nike ran, be it the mountains, the desert, or the jungle, the shoes stayed spotless and unflawed. "These are going to be keepers," Nike thought to himself. He got them customized so they would have the logo, “Nike,” on the side. He added gel in the heels, and put the most comfortable material in the the inside. He then put them onto his golden foot and never took them off again. At least, that's what everyone thought.
The shoes, who barely had any idea what was going on, felt happy. All they knew were that they were being used. After a long day of running, they were taken off and put under Nike’s bed. They soon found out about their user from some of the other shoes there. They talked about different materials for shoes, different wearers, and many other things. They also told the shoe about how Nike rips up his shoes when he runs. Also, they heard about Nike’s magic socks that teleport him anywhere he wants. The next day, Nike got out of bed and put his shoes back on. He went outside and played basketball for a little while. The shoes soon found out how fun it was to play sports. He took many jump shots so it felt like the shoes were flying through the air. The shoe all of a sudden remembered about Nike’s cruel habits. Deciding it would be best to run for it, the shoes stole away on one of Nike’s jump shots and slipped off his feet, hopping off into the world.
The shoes gradually found their way to FedEx Field, the home of the Redskins. They started to play football. They were tried on by Clinton Portis, Santana Moss, Antwaan Randle El, and Fred Smoot. They took so much use that they were the happiest shoes in the world. The only thing shoes were afraid of was if they ripped. Other than that, they would want to be used as much as possible. Shortly after football, they found themselves in the middle of a lacrosse championship. Then, they walked on the red carpet. They did not know how all of this was happening. They finally realized that when they jumped off of Nike’s feet, the socks came out also. In other words, the shoes had been traveling around through the centuries and were now in the possession of a boy known as Marcus Leanos.
Writing Friday #2: Personal Narrative
Writing Friday #2: Personal Narrative
My favorite place to play is on the St. Paul’s turf field. The turf is the perfect green to play on. There are straight white lines that go across the field every five yards. There are also two endzones and two field goals at each end of the field. When you look through the field goal on one side, you see a huge hill that seems to go on forever. On the other side you see a colossal black net with a parking lot behind it. Here you can also see the other team’s buses. When I walk onto the field and see the stadium behind me, I feel like I am a sports star. The only bad thing about this field is that during the summer it is about ten degrees hotter. When playing lacrosse with all of your pads on, running back and forth along the field, it feels like you're playing in 115 degree weather.
When I go on the field, I am usually with a friend. We play football during the Fall season and lacrosse during the Spring season. During games we will go on the fields and play. I can hear the crowd rooting for the teams, and the coaches yelling plays out. When I look up and see the giant scoreboard that says, St. Pauls – 6, Boys Latin - 5 in the 1st quarter, I know that it will be an amazingly close game. I look behind me and all of the students are cheering, eating, playing, and just having a good time. It is a truly amazing place where anything can happen.
My favorite place to play is on the St. Paul’s turf field. The turf is the perfect green to play on. There are straight white lines that go across the field every five yards. There are also two endzones and two field goals at each end of the field. When you look through the field goal on one side, you see a huge hill that seems to go on forever. On the other side you see a colossal black net with a parking lot behind it. Here you can also see the other team’s buses. When I walk onto the field and see the stadium behind me, I feel like I am a sports star. The only bad thing about this field is that during the summer it is about ten degrees hotter. When playing lacrosse with all of your pads on, running back and forth along the field, it feels like you're playing in 115 degree weather.
When I go on the field, I am usually with a friend. We play football during the Fall season and lacrosse during the Spring season. During games we will go on the fields and play. I can hear the crowd rooting for the teams, and the coaches yelling plays out. When I look up and see the giant scoreboard that says, St. Pauls – 6, Boys Latin - 5 in the 1st quarter, I know that it will be an amazingly close game. I look behind me and all of the students are cheering, eating, playing, and just having a good time. It is a truly amazing place where anything can happen.
Writing Friday #3: Personal and Fictional
Writing Friday #3: Narrative: Personal and Fictional
My most memorable Saturday was with my lacrosse team. We had started out “Lax Splash” on Friday. “Lax Splash” is a huge tournament where hundreds of teams come from different states. On Friday we went out and played Perry Hall. They were horrible. The game wasn’t that good either. It was cold, clammy, dark, and muddy. I started out the game on middie. I took the face-off and won. I passed to a teammate and he drew most of the defensemen and I got the ball and scored. It was easy. It took about five seconds. The rest of the game I got cocky. I tried all of these hard shots where I could have passed it to a teammate and they could have scored. We ended up winning by about eight. That was the only game we had that day. The next we would play two games in the morning. If we won three, we would go to the playoffs.
It was a nice Saturday morning with wet grass, it rained the night before. We started against a team called Gamber. They were big but they couldn’t play lacrosse that well. It started out slow. We scored then they scored. It was a see-saw game. It was easy to run down the field because it was irregularly small. There would go out of bounce almost every play. By half-time we were up by one. Our coach gave us some pep talk and we went back out onto the field. On the first play there was a fast-break and I got the ball and shot it right over the goalies head and scored. On the next play the ball was behind the goalie and I sneaked in front of my defenseman. I got the ball, and with an very weird semi-flick push motion, I got it into the goal. We ended up winning by four. We had a quick break and walked over to our next game.
This field was also very small. About the same size. It was against Reisterstown. They were both big and small, like our team, and they had good ball-handling skills. It was a tough game. It was again a see-saw game, but in their favor. They would score, and then we would score, trying to hang on. I scored two goals that game, one was a fake and dump goal on a fast break, and I can’t remember the second. We ended up winning by two. It was a tough game, especially with the team we just beat rooting for the other team.
On Sunday we had a very tough game. We had made it into the playoffs and were going to play Carroll manor. They were really good. I had one goal. It was a really hard outside shot that landed top right. The field was big and was on a hill, so running was tough. We were losing by three at the half. We came back with three miraculous goals to tie it up. After that, we had tired the defense, which was very big. We got two more easy goals and won. We were going to the Semi-finals.
We were going against one of the toughest teams in the tournament, Cobra. It was not a good game. I did not score and they were faster and better than us. They were running the same play every time and kept scoring. They ended up winning by eight. Greg Louzan was on that team. They ended beating the other MLC team in the finals which had Kyle Krumenacker on that team. It was a good end though. We played 9-0. This was very memorable because our team played very well and stuck together like a team.
My most memorable Saturday was with my lacrosse team. We had started out “Lax Splash” on Friday. “Lax Splash” is a huge tournament where hundreds of teams come from different states. On Friday we went out and played Perry Hall. They were horrible. The game wasn’t that good either. It was cold, clammy, dark, and muddy. I started out the game on middie. I took the face-off and won. I passed to a teammate and he drew most of the defensemen and I got the ball and scored. It was easy. It took about five seconds. The rest of the game I got cocky. I tried all of these hard shots where I could have passed it to a teammate and they could have scored. We ended up winning by about eight. That was the only game we had that day. The next we would play two games in the morning. If we won three, we would go to the playoffs.
It was a nice Saturday morning with wet grass, it rained the night before. We started against a team called Gamber. They were big but they couldn’t play lacrosse that well. It started out slow. We scored then they scored. It was a see-saw game. It was easy to run down the field because it was irregularly small. There would go out of bounce almost every play. By half-time we were up by one. Our coach gave us some pep talk and we went back out onto the field. On the first play there was a fast-break and I got the ball and shot it right over the goalies head and scored. On the next play the ball was behind the goalie and I sneaked in front of my defenseman. I got the ball, and with an very weird semi-flick push motion, I got it into the goal. We ended up winning by four. We had a quick break and walked over to our next game.
This field was also very small. About the same size. It was against Reisterstown. They were both big and small, like our team, and they had good ball-handling skills. It was a tough game. It was again a see-saw game, but in their favor. They would score, and then we would score, trying to hang on. I scored two goals that game, one was a fake and dump goal on a fast break, and I can’t remember the second. We ended up winning by two. It was a tough game, especially with the team we just beat rooting for the other team.
On Sunday we had a very tough game. We had made it into the playoffs and were going to play Carroll manor. They were really good. I had one goal. It was a really hard outside shot that landed top right. The field was big and was on a hill, so running was tough. We were losing by three at the half. We came back with three miraculous goals to tie it up. After that, we had tired the defense, which was very big. We got two more easy goals and won. We were going to the Semi-finals.
We were going against one of the toughest teams in the tournament, Cobra. It was not a good game. I did not score and they were faster and better than us. They were running the same play every time and kept scoring. They ended up winning by eight. Greg Louzan was on that team. They ended beating the other MLC team in the finals which had Kyle Krumenacker on that team. It was a good end though. We played 9-0. This was very memorable because our team played very well and stuck together like a team.
Writing Friday #7: Persuasive
Writing Friday #7: Persuasive
In school, there are many rules that I disagree with. One of these rules is tucking your shirt in. For example, when you are running around outside and dive to catch a football, your shirttail may come out. Even though you may not realize that your shirt is out until you look down, the teachers will still get on you about it. I would be willing to bet that teachers have to give at least two detentions a day for kids with their shirts untucked. But sometimes you can't help it. Do you know how easily shirttails come out? It’s like they are soaked in butter. Though it may make us look sloppy, we can't help it if they sometimes come out. Even if it's just for recess, I would like to feel comfortable sometimes.
Another issue I would like to discuss is the colors of polos and turtlenecks. Why do they always have to be white or navy-blue? Quiet honestfully, I thing orange and green polos look just as good. There is nothing that looks particularly sloppy about different colored polos, so why must it always be navy-blue or white.
I think that these changes to the dress code wouldn't play a major role in our school life, just give us more of a variety of styles that we could wear. It wouldn't be like our educational effort would go down because of this. I truly think that it would be easier to concentrate at school everyday with a more lenient dresscode.
In school, there are many rules that I disagree with. One of these rules is tucking your shirt in. For example, when you are running around outside and dive to catch a football, your shirttail may come out. Even though you may not realize that your shirt is out until you look down, the teachers will still get on you about it. I would be willing to bet that teachers have to give at least two detentions a day for kids with their shirts untucked. But sometimes you can't help it. Do you know how easily shirttails come out? It’s like they are soaked in butter. Though it may make us look sloppy, we can't help it if they sometimes come out. Even if it's just for recess, I would like to feel comfortable sometimes.
Another issue I would like to discuss is the colors of polos and turtlenecks. Why do they always have to be white or navy-blue? Quiet honestfully, I thing orange and green polos look just as good. There is nothing that looks particularly sloppy about different colored polos, so why must it always be navy-blue or white.
I think that these changes to the dress code wouldn't play a major role in our school life, just give us more of a variety of styles that we could wear. It wouldn't be like our educational effort would go down because of this. I truly think that it would be easier to concentrate at school everyday with a more lenient dresscode.
Writing Friday #8: Fiction Prompt
The Snarnidians were a quiet, peaceful people, but they had a strange, painful, and even disturbing custom that they had practiced for centuries. This tradition came to be because of the evil god of produce who rejected tomatoes as a fruit. His name was The Fresh Produce of Derriere. He demanded that every day, a tomato had to be sent to him so he could see if a tomato was really a fruit. The people were very serious about this strange custom.
They would find the biggest tomato possible and set him on a raised platform. This custom was painful because they set someone else on the platform with him. They would place the tomato in a huge fire, the size of the Pacific Ocean. They would wait a few seconds, and then pull it out. Then, they would massage the tomato to loosen up the juices inside. Then, they made a small hole in the tomato and stuffed the ashes inside of it. This made a hot chocolate looking substance. They would squeeze out a few cups and drink it. Then, their emperor, Beeg Pantz, would drink some and spit it out all over the tomato. The tomato would be bobbing up and down in the water around the fire. The water, in this planet of Tomato-be-gone, was all made out of old socks dipped in tomato juice. By this time, the tomato was covered in this strange mixture and a lot of strange water. This would all be done by the entire world of the Snarnidians. They would then roll him off of the platform and into a huge stadium. They would give him the weirdest food in the universe, a Snarnidian delicacy. By this time the Tomato was about to explode, it was the size of a city. They would put it into a huge harness and let it hang there for three days. This would mean that there are at least three tomatoes in there at a time. They would throw livers at it so it would get soft. Now, the tomato would be extremely soft. Many men would jump on top of it and kick it. The tomato would be feeling no pain because of its extremely soft body. The Snarnidians then prayed to The Fresh Produce of Derriere. He would come down to earth and start to blow his nose on it. Then, they dropped it in a pit of Pepto Bismol to make him go to the bathroom. His waste would be very disgusting and would taste like cherries. They would all eat it. Then they would poop it out and throw all over the tomato. This was a very unlucky tomato. By now, the stadium smelled very bad. On the final step of this process, they would dip him in the whole mixture of everything they had done to him again, and then they eat him and then poop it out again and flush it down the toilet. The toilet to them was The Fresh Produce of Derriere.
The Snarnidians were a quiet, peaceful people, but they had a strange, painful, and even disturbing custom that they had practiced for centuries. This tradition came to be because of the evil god of produce who rejected tomatoes as a fruit. His name was The Fresh Produce of Derriere. He demanded that every day, a tomato had to be sent to him so he could see if a tomato was really a fruit. The people were very serious about this strange custom.
They would find the biggest tomato possible and set him on a raised platform. This custom was painful because they set someone else on the platform with him. They would place the tomato in a huge fire, the size of the Pacific Ocean. They would wait a few seconds, and then pull it out. Then, they would massage the tomato to loosen up the juices inside. Then, they made a small hole in the tomato and stuffed the ashes inside of it. This made a hot chocolate looking substance. They would squeeze out a few cups and drink it. Then, their emperor, Beeg Pantz, would drink some and spit it out all over the tomato. The tomato would be bobbing up and down in the water around the fire. The water, in this planet of Tomato-be-gone, was all made out of old socks dipped in tomato juice. By this time, the tomato was covered in this strange mixture and a lot of strange water. This would all be done by the entire world of the Snarnidians. They would then roll him off of the platform and into a huge stadium. They would give him the weirdest food in the universe, a Snarnidian delicacy. By this time the Tomato was about to explode, it was the size of a city. They would put it into a huge harness and let it hang there for three days. This would mean that there are at least three tomatoes in there at a time. They would throw livers at it so it would get soft. Now, the tomato would be extremely soft. Many men would jump on top of it and kick it. The tomato would be feeling no pain because of its extremely soft body. The Snarnidians then prayed to The Fresh Produce of Derriere. He would come down to earth and start to blow his nose on it. Then, they dropped it in a pit of Pepto Bismol to make him go to the bathroom. His waste would be very disgusting and would taste like cherries. They would all eat it. Then they would poop it out and throw all over the tomato. This was a very unlucky tomato. By now, the stadium smelled very bad. On the final step of this process, they would dip him in the whole mixture of everything they had done to him again, and then they eat him and then poop it out again and flush it down the toilet. The toilet to them was The Fresh Produce of Derriere.
Writing Friday #15: "Innisfree" Imitation (for issue Two of The Crusader)
Writing Friday #15: “Innisfree” Imitation (for issue Two of The Crusader)
Bliss
I will leave.
I will go,
And find myself in bliss.
I will build a mansion,
With a pool.
Four diving boards I will have there,
And a basketball hoop.
And live alone in the thrilling wonderland.
I shall have some excitement there,
for stimulation zooms through the roof.
From the beginnings of dawn,
To the glowing lightning bugs in the night.
There will be no moths or annoying bugs to disturb me,
I hear the pool water splash all around me,
And my eyes burn.
For I am doing the most classic dive of all,
The holy cannonball.
Then my deceiving ears hear, “And you may title this piece,
Writing Friday #15…”
For my deceiving eyes have tricked me once again.
Bliss
I will leave.
I will go,
And find myself in bliss.
I will build a mansion,
With a pool.
Four diving boards I will have there,
And a basketball hoop.
And live alone in the thrilling wonderland.
I shall have some excitement there,
for stimulation zooms through the roof.
From the beginnings of dawn,
To the glowing lightning bugs in the night.
There will be no moths or annoying bugs to disturb me,
I hear the pool water splash all around me,
And my eyes burn.
For I am doing the most classic dive of all,
The holy cannonball.
Then my deceiving ears hear, “And you may title this piece,
Writing Friday #15…”
For my deceiving eyes have tricked me once again.
Writing Friday #14: Narrative: Personal: Best Meal Ever
Writing Friday #14: Narrative: Personal: Best Meal Ever
(For Issue Two of The Crusader)
We walked through the thick humid Florida air to my grandfather’s Mercedes. My family and I got in and decided where we were going to go: The New York Prime. My grandfather goes there all the time and the people know him well. We went into the parking lot where the valet greeted us. They parked our car, and looking back, I could see Ferraris, Bentleys, and almost every nice car you could think of. I knew that this place was very proper because we had been here before. We sat down in a nice booth near the bar and ordered drinks. Waiting for my usual Sprite, I looked up and realized how big the restaurant was. In the middle of the ceiling there was an enormous chandelier. After we got our drinks, it was time to look at the menu. There were so many delicious appetizers and unfortunately I could only pick one. So it was the Stone crabs. Expecting a few normal sized crab claws, what a surprise when two huge crab claws were served to me in ice. After stuffing those down, it was time to choose an entrĂ©e. I picked the Petite Filet. It was eight ounces and when it arrived it was amazing. I cut into the medium rare meat and put it into my mouth. Mouth watering, steak sizzling, it was cooked to perfection. When we came in, I noticed a piano player that was also singing. Fantasizing, I thought he looked almost exactly like a taller Billy Crystal. He seemed to be just one of those piano players that comes in and plays the boring endless fancy songs. But I realized halfway through dinner that he was singing and the waiters started to sing with him. A few minutes later he started to play "Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond. One of the waiters jumped on top of the bar, near we were sitting and yelled out, “I love this song!” Then all the waiters started to sing. After a few seconds, the waiter called over to my grandfather, “George! Have I told you I love this song!?” At that moment, I knew why my grandfather came here a lot: because it was fun, had amazing food, and was (and still is) the nicest steakhouse in Boca Raton. Later in the night when we were finishing up our dinners, they started to hand out huge piles of napkins to the tables. I was confused; did they think we were messy? Then, my grandfather told me what was going to happen. All of the waiters jumped on the bar, poured a drink and counted down from three. On one, they drank their drinks, threw them down, shattering them on the bar, and everybody threw up their napkins all at once. It was amazing. After throwing up my napkins we started to eat again. A few minutes later, our waiter did not come back to us. We realized why and looked at the amazing sight. The bartender had climbed a huge ladder where all the wines were, which was about twenty-five feet in the air, and started to make martinis. He was flipping them up and down and doing all sorts of tricks. Our waiter, whom was a part of almost everything they were doing that night, and another waiter were balancing martini glassed on their foreheads. They stood about halfway up the ladder. The bartender then poured the martini into the glasses (which were about fifteen feet below him) and never even spilled a drop. Our waiters pushed up their heads sending the martinis in the air and caught them. They chugged them down and threw them down and shattered them. Everybody was having a wonderful time and I was having the time of my life. It was the greatest meal I had ever had.
(For Issue Two of The Crusader)
We walked through the thick humid Florida air to my grandfather’s Mercedes. My family and I got in and decided where we were going to go: The New York Prime. My grandfather goes there all the time and the people know him well. We went into the parking lot where the valet greeted us. They parked our car, and looking back, I could see Ferraris, Bentleys, and almost every nice car you could think of. I knew that this place was very proper because we had been here before. We sat down in a nice booth near the bar and ordered drinks. Waiting for my usual Sprite, I looked up and realized how big the restaurant was. In the middle of the ceiling there was an enormous chandelier. After we got our drinks, it was time to look at the menu. There were so many delicious appetizers and unfortunately I could only pick one. So it was the Stone crabs. Expecting a few normal sized crab claws, what a surprise when two huge crab claws were served to me in ice. After stuffing those down, it was time to choose an entrĂ©e. I picked the Petite Filet. It was eight ounces and when it arrived it was amazing. I cut into the medium rare meat and put it into my mouth. Mouth watering, steak sizzling, it was cooked to perfection. When we came in, I noticed a piano player that was also singing. Fantasizing, I thought he looked almost exactly like a taller Billy Crystal. He seemed to be just one of those piano players that comes in and plays the boring endless fancy songs. But I realized halfway through dinner that he was singing and the waiters started to sing with him. A few minutes later he started to play "Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond. One of the waiters jumped on top of the bar, near we were sitting and yelled out, “I love this song!” Then all the waiters started to sing. After a few seconds, the waiter called over to my grandfather, “George! Have I told you I love this song!?” At that moment, I knew why my grandfather came here a lot: because it was fun, had amazing food, and was (and still is) the nicest steakhouse in Boca Raton. Later in the night when we were finishing up our dinners, they started to hand out huge piles of napkins to the tables. I was confused; did they think we were messy? Then, my grandfather told me what was going to happen. All of the waiters jumped on the bar, poured a drink and counted down from three. On one, they drank their drinks, threw them down, shattering them on the bar, and everybody threw up their napkins all at once. It was amazing. After throwing up my napkins we started to eat again. A few minutes later, our waiter did not come back to us. We realized why and looked at the amazing sight. The bartender had climbed a huge ladder where all the wines were, which was about twenty-five feet in the air, and started to make martinis. He was flipping them up and down and doing all sorts of tricks. Our waiter, whom was a part of almost everything they were doing that night, and another waiter were balancing martini glassed on their foreheads. They stood about halfway up the ladder. The bartender then poured the martini into the glasses (which were about fifteen feet below him) and never even spilled a drop. Our waiters pushed up their heads sending the martinis in the air and caught them. They chugged them down and threw them down and shattered them. Everybody was having a wonderful time and I was having the time of my life. It was the greatest meal I had ever had.
Writing Friday #11: Narrative: Personal and Fictional
Writing Friday #11: Narrative: Personal & Fictional
That is How I Became Captain
There I was, on the open sea of broccoli pudding. Well, it wasn’t all broccoli pudding. It was part saltwater. More like ninety-five percent saltwater. I was on a really big ship. It was called the Rilly Beeg Shp. The captain’s name was Salty Bigbeard. He was the most feared pirate in the world. Whenever he would see a ship, even if it was a British Navy Ship, he would loot it then leave everyone there. Then, if he really hated the crew, he would set the sails on fire. If he liked the ship, he would kill the crew then steal the ship. At the present time he had a fleet of about one hundred and fifty ships. He didn’t care if it was a war ship because he was presently at war with every navy in the world. He had enough ships just to defeat them all, but he didn’t feel like it. He liked constant action. If you don’t believe me listen to this. He made his crew perform battle scenes just so he could shoot someone. He even told his fleet to destroy ships sometimes. I was his first mate. I was the most respected, and the most hated, person in his fleet. One day he walked up to me with his ragged, dirty, roach-infested, black beard and said, “Ink [that was my name because I was constantly drawing maps and there was always ink on me], I’m getting tired of this life. I want to defeat every navy then take over the empire for myself. I much rather relax than climb up to a ship then break my back going down the stairs to get their gold. I have nasty arthritis.” I couldn’t believe my ears! Captain Salty Bigbeard wanted to retire! I couldn’t tell the crew, they set up a mutiny in a second, knowing that he’s weak. I had to keep it discrete. I nodded my head and left the room. I thought about what he had said. What if I could be captain? What if I could lead a mutiny? I knew the ships better than him. I was definitely smarter than him. Also, I was more skilled at fighting. He only had a few hundred followers (the ships held thousands of men because there were so many ships). I thought about all night. I could barely go to sleep. I could be the emperor of the world. I decided to wait until we defeated a few Navies before I set up the mutiny. How could I have not thought of this before! The captain went to the crew the next day and told them to start battling with the Navies. In weeks we had defeated the French, the Spanish, and the Dutch Navies. The only major competitor we had left was the British. After them, we would have a few small independent ships. We quickly scaled the ocean and defeated the small ships and soon met with the British Navy. We all knew that it was going to be a gruesome battle. They had the strongest Navy in the world! A few minutes of yelling and cursing and a few standoffs with the British, the first cannon fired. Piercing the British ship’s hull and destroying half of the boat. Our cannonballs were filled with explosive and were very big. We also had stationery guns that launched cannonballs. We were undefeatable. We lost eighty ships in that battle. That’s more than half of our fleet. Doing so, we defeated the entire Navy. That night we celebrated. I informed the crew of my plans. They took it better than I expected. They all agreed and set up their guns. We decided to have the mutiny at six o’clock, so he would have to survive the night with all of its storms instead of being able to enjoy warm sun. We acted natural the entire day until dinner. When he entered the room he immediately knew that something was wrong. We grabbed him from both sides and explained what was happening. We brought him out on the deck and I could feel what it was like to be king. Everything was clearer, the smell of the salty air and the blue of the sky. It was amazing. We put the former captain on a simple raft made of branches we had found in the water and sailed away. That was the last we saw of him. The Great Salty Bigbeard was now just a speck on the horizon, and that is how I became captain.
That is How I Became Captain
There I was, on the open sea of broccoli pudding. Well, it wasn’t all broccoli pudding. It was part saltwater. More like ninety-five percent saltwater. I was on a really big ship. It was called the Rilly Beeg Shp. The captain’s name was Salty Bigbeard. He was the most feared pirate in the world. Whenever he would see a ship, even if it was a British Navy Ship, he would loot it then leave everyone there. Then, if he really hated the crew, he would set the sails on fire. If he liked the ship, he would kill the crew then steal the ship. At the present time he had a fleet of about one hundred and fifty ships. He didn’t care if it was a war ship because he was presently at war with every navy in the world. He had enough ships just to defeat them all, but he didn’t feel like it. He liked constant action. If you don’t believe me listen to this. He made his crew perform battle scenes just so he could shoot someone. He even told his fleet to destroy ships sometimes. I was his first mate. I was the most respected, and the most hated, person in his fleet. One day he walked up to me with his ragged, dirty, roach-infested, black beard and said, “Ink [that was my name because I was constantly drawing maps and there was always ink on me], I’m getting tired of this life. I want to defeat every navy then take over the empire for myself. I much rather relax than climb up to a ship then break my back going down the stairs to get their gold. I have nasty arthritis.” I couldn’t believe my ears! Captain Salty Bigbeard wanted to retire! I couldn’t tell the crew, they set up a mutiny in a second, knowing that he’s weak. I had to keep it discrete. I nodded my head and left the room. I thought about what he had said. What if I could be captain? What if I could lead a mutiny? I knew the ships better than him. I was definitely smarter than him. Also, I was more skilled at fighting. He only had a few hundred followers (the ships held thousands of men because there were so many ships). I thought about all night. I could barely go to sleep. I could be the emperor of the world. I decided to wait until we defeated a few Navies before I set up the mutiny. How could I have not thought of this before! The captain went to the crew the next day and told them to start battling with the Navies. In weeks we had defeated the French, the Spanish, and the Dutch Navies. The only major competitor we had left was the British. After them, we would have a few small independent ships. We quickly scaled the ocean and defeated the small ships and soon met with the British Navy. We all knew that it was going to be a gruesome battle. They had the strongest Navy in the world! A few minutes of yelling and cursing and a few standoffs with the British, the first cannon fired. Piercing the British ship’s hull and destroying half of the boat. Our cannonballs were filled with explosive and were very big. We also had stationery guns that launched cannonballs. We were undefeatable. We lost eighty ships in that battle. That’s more than half of our fleet. Doing so, we defeated the entire Navy. That night we celebrated. I informed the crew of my plans. They took it better than I expected. They all agreed and set up their guns. We decided to have the mutiny at six o’clock, so he would have to survive the night with all of its storms instead of being able to enjoy warm sun. We acted natural the entire day until dinner. When he entered the room he immediately knew that something was wrong. We grabbed him from both sides and explained what was happening. We brought him out on the deck and I could feel what it was like to be king. Everything was clearer, the smell of the salty air and the blue of the sky. It was amazing. We put the former captain on a simple raft made of branches we had found in the water and sailed away. That was the last we saw of him. The Great Salty Bigbeard was now just a speck on the horizon, and that is how I became captain.
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