Here is my revised version. I attempted to include a little more detail and clear up the ending a bit. Any feedback would be great!
"No Answer"
I hate the last Monday of the month. That is the day that I have to go around and collect money for my paper route. Asking people for money (especially grownups), even though they know they have to pay, is a little awkward. But, on the other hand, it is also payday for me, so I am very excited this Monday because a new game has been released for my Xbox.
The first few collections go a little easier than usual. Most people have their envelopes completed and ready to go so I do not have to wait and make small talk. Then I get to Mrs. Phillips’ house. She lives alone, and seems to welcome anyone coming to see her. Today she offered me oatmeal raisin cookies, my favorite. She started telling me about her grandson who lives in Florida and is my age. I may add that I have heard the same story every month! Finally, I am able to split away, and head to the farthest houses on my route, Appleby Drive.
Appleby Drive is a dead-end, and my only customer on the street is at the end. Mr. Morris owns a double lot, even though he does not really take care of the second part of the lot. It is a smaller house, green with white trim that needs a fresh coat of paint. There is a porch in the front of the house, but I was told at beginning of my paper delivering career to deliver the papers and pick up the cash at the side patio and door.
When Mr. Morris calls it his patio, I want to tell him to trim the bushes and clean the furniture. The bushes on the side of the house have overgrown the red brick area, and make most people think that no one lives there anymore. I often think this is what he wants people to assume. You know, so he doesn’t have any other visitors. The wrought iron furniture, with cushions missing, is mostly rusted and covered with leaves and sticks.
I really loathe collecting money from Mr. Morris, but I needed the $20 to be able to buy my new game. Jimmy was coming over later to play, and I only had 15 minutes to collect the money and get home so Mom could take me to Best Buy before dinner.
As I approached the patio, I noticed the side door was open, and a light was on behind the screen. Occasionally Mr. Morris was outside filling the birdfeeders, but not today. I peered into the backyard, did not see him, so I knocked on the side door and called his name. “Mr. Morris! Mr. Morris! Paper collection!”
There was no answer. Any other month, and I would come back on Tuesday. I just thought of Jimmy, and how much fun the new game would be tonight. My mom went back to work tomorrow, so if I did not get the game today, it would be the weekend before I would.
I knocked a little harder, and yelled a little louder: “Mr. Morris! Where are you?”
Still no response. I could not face Jimmy without the latest World at War, so I yelled again, and opened the door.
That’s when I heard the first noise. Not a scream, not anything that I could describe, just a noise that offered a glimmer of hope that I might be able to get a new video game today. The light from behind the door was coming from the family room, up a few steps from the doorway.
“What a funky smell”, I said to myself as I walked up the five steps. Sort of smelled like my Grandma’s house, but different somehow. I could smell the familiar aroma of moth balls, but there was also a distinct scent of tobacco, most likely from his pipe he usually has sticking out of the side of his mouth.
The family room was in a state of disarray, but not any different than the outside of the house. It looked like no one had dusted or cleaned up in a while. The walls were covered in yellowish wallpaper with a gold print. There was a large table in the center of the room that was covered in newspapers. When I picked one paper up, thinking that someone actually read the town’s newspaper, I noticed the date was November 22, 1979. The other newspapers on the table were from the late 70’s, but the dates seemed random.
That’s when I heard the noise again. It sounded a lot like hearing someone’s echo from far away. I continued into the living room, where I noticed that the curtains were pulled closed, and the room was dark, except for the glow of the television. As I moved towards the television, the familiar scenes of MASH were causing the glow. My mother watched MASH every night on TVLand, and it seemed just as old as the newspapers.
I had to be home by 3:00, and I did not have my watch. I tried to change the channel to the TV Guide channel, where it reads the time, but some old TV show was on each channel. It was very strange. I felt as if I were sent back in time to when television just started showing in color.
More questions and another echo. At this point, it was pure curiousity that kept me looking and probing for answers. Okay, my money and the game pushed me as well. When I heard this echo, I swore it came from upstairs. As I headed towards the stairs, I heard the mysterious noise again, and I knew for sure: it was coming from upstairs. It seemed more like an angry grunt or growl. I looked up and saw a light at the top of the staircase.
The hard wood floors turned to bright orange shag carpet on the stairs. As I walked upstairs, it was pretty dim. I had no idea how Mr. Morris lived in such a dark house! At the top of the steps, I saw where the light was coming from – a large bedroom.
The bedroom was as disheveled as the rest of the house. Over in the corner of the room was a clothes bureau, half open. As I poked around, I found plenty of clothes that looked at least twice as old as I am. There was no modern technology: no TV, no computer, no iPod alarm clock. There was an old lamp on the night stand, and a really old stereo in the corner. The cabinet next to the stereo was filled with square cardboard sleeves that contained large black discs. The covers of the sleeves had artwork and pictures that looked like album covers, but the black discs inside were at least twice as big as CDs. “America”, the “BeeGees”, “Olivia Newton-John”… Who were these people or groups?
That is when I heard it again, and this time, it was much louder than any other time. It was also more distinctive, and I could definitely tell it was a snarl. I dropped the cardboard sleeves, and ran down the stairs. The growl continued, “Get out of my house!”
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I ran towards the door. The screen door posed no resistance as I flew out of the house. Once my feet hit the red brick of the patio, I heard a loud slam. I turned, and I saw the side door had slammed shut behind the screen and I. I must have come at a dreadful time. Maybe tomorrow will be better?
I guess that Jimmy and I will not be playing a new video game tonight! I’m sure Jimmy will understand my sheer horror from today’s events. We can always try again next weekend. Right now I’m just relieved to make it out of there alive!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Feeling a little green...
I mentioned in a comment to Kiersten's poem that my husband and I recently found out we were expecting. Unfortunately, the morning sickness has kicked in full gear, except mine occurs every evening instead of the morning. Has anyone experienced sickness with their pregnancies? Do you have any remedies to suggest? I'm all ears!!!
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Writer's Workshop Piece
This story was inspired by my nephew and the paper route he had a few years ago, though the events are purely fictional. Any comments would be much appreciated for my revising and editing steps.
"No Answer"
I hate the last Monday of the month. That is the day that I have to go around and collect money for my paper route. Asking people for money, even though they know they have to pay, is a little awkward, especially grownups. But it is also payday for me, so I am very excited this Monday because a new game has been released for my Xbox.
The first few collections go a little easier than usual. Most people have their envelopes completed and ready to go so I do not have to wait and make small talk. Then I get to Mrs. Phillips’ house. She lives alone, and seems to welcome anyone coming to see her. Finally, I am able to split away, and head to the farthest houses on my route, Appleby Drive.
Appleby Drive is a dead-end, and my only customer on the street is at the end. Mr. Morris owns a double lot, even though he does not really take care of the second part of the lot. It is a smaller house, green with white trim that needs a fresh coat of paint. There is a porch in the front of the house, but I was told at beginning of my paper delivering career to deliver the papers and pick up the cash at the side patio and door.
When Mr. Morris calls it his patio, I want to tell him to trim the bushes and clean the furniture. The bushes on the side of the house have overgrown the red brick area, and make most people think that no one lives there anymore. The wrought iron furniture, with cushions missing, is mostly rusted and covered with leaves and sticks.
I really hate collecting money from Mr. Morris, but I needed the $20 to be able to buy my new game. Jimmy was coming over later to play, and I only had 20 minutes to collect the money and get home so Mom could take me to Best Buy before dinner.
As I approached the patio, I noticed the side door was open, and a light was on behind the screen. Occasionally Mr. Morris was outside filling the birdfeeders, but not today. I peered into the backyard, did not see him, so I knocked on the side door and called his name. “Mr. Morris! Mr. Morris! Paper collection!”
There was no response. Any other month, and I would come back on Tuesday. I just thought of Jimmy, and how much fun the new game would be tonight. My mom went back to work tomorrow, so if I did not get the game today, it would be the weekend before I would.
I knocked a little harder, and yelled a little louder: “Mr. Morris! Where are you?”
Still no response. I could not face Jimmy without the latest World at War, so I yelled again, and opened the door.
That’s when I heard the first noise. Not a scream, not anything that I could describe, just a noise that offered a glimmer of hope that I might be able to get a new video game today. The light from behind the door was coming from the family room, up a few steps from the doorway.
“What a funky smell”, I said to myself as I walked up the five steps. Sort of smelled like my Grandma’s house, but different somehow. Maybe old men and old women smell different.
The family room was messy, but not any different than the outside of the house. It looked like no one had dusted or cleaned up in a while. The walls were covered in yellowish wallpaper with a gold print. There was a large table in the center of the room that was covered in newspapers. When I picked one up, thinking that someone actually read the town’s newspaper, I noticed the date was November 22, 1979. The other newspapers on the table were just as old, but the dates seemed random.
That’s when I heard the noise again. It sounded a lot like hearing someone’s echo from far away. I continued into the living room, where I noticed that the curtains were pulled closed, and the room was dark, except for the glow of the television. As I moved towards the television, the familiar scenes of MASH were causing the glow. My mother watched MASH every night on TVLand, and it seemed just as old as the newspapers.
I tried to change the channel; I had to be home by 3:00, and I did not have my watch. I tried to change the channel to the TV Guide channel, but some old TV show was on each channel.
More questions and another echo. At this point, it was pure curiousity that kept me looking and probing for answers, and my money. When I heard this echo, I swore it came from upstairs. As I headed towards the stairs, I heard the mysterious noise again, and I knew for sure: it was coming from upstairs.
The hard wood floors turned to bright orange shag carpet on the stairs. As I walked upstairs, I saw more lights. I had no idea how Mr. Morris lived in such a dark house! At the top of the steps, I saw where the light was coming from – a large bedroom.
The bedroom was as messy as the rest of the house. Over in the corner of the room was a clothes bureau, half open. As I poked around, I found plenty of clothes that looked at least twice as old as I am. There was no technology: no TV, no computer, no iPod alarm clock. There was an old lamp on the night stand, and a really old stereo in the corner. The cabinet next to the stereo was filled with square cardboard sleeves that contained large black discs. The covers of the sleeves had artwork and pictures that looked like album covers, but the black discs inside were at least twice as big as CDs. “America”, “The Jackson 5”, the “BeeGees”, “Olivia Newton-John”… who were these people or groups?
That is when I heard the echo, and this time, it was much louder than any other time I heard it. It was also more distinctive, and I could definitely tell it was a scream. I dropped the cardboard sleeves, and ran down the stairs. The scream continued, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I ran towards the door. The screen door posed no resistence as I flew out of the house. Once my feet hit the red brick of the patio, I heard a loud slam. I turned, and I saw the side door had slammed shut behind the screen and I.
I guess that Jimmy and I will not be playing a new video game tonight!
"No Answer"
I hate the last Monday of the month. That is the day that I have to go around and collect money for my paper route. Asking people for money, even though they know they have to pay, is a little awkward, especially grownups. But it is also payday for me, so I am very excited this Monday because a new game has been released for my Xbox.
The first few collections go a little easier than usual. Most people have their envelopes completed and ready to go so I do not have to wait and make small talk. Then I get to Mrs. Phillips’ house. She lives alone, and seems to welcome anyone coming to see her. Finally, I am able to split away, and head to the farthest houses on my route, Appleby Drive.
Appleby Drive is a dead-end, and my only customer on the street is at the end. Mr. Morris owns a double lot, even though he does not really take care of the second part of the lot. It is a smaller house, green with white trim that needs a fresh coat of paint. There is a porch in the front of the house, but I was told at beginning of my paper delivering career to deliver the papers and pick up the cash at the side patio and door.
When Mr. Morris calls it his patio, I want to tell him to trim the bushes and clean the furniture. The bushes on the side of the house have overgrown the red brick area, and make most people think that no one lives there anymore. The wrought iron furniture, with cushions missing, is mostly rusted and covered with leaves and sticks.
I really hate collecting money from Mr. Morris, but I needed the $20 to be able to buy my new game. Jimmy was coming over later to play, and I only had 20 minutes to collect the money and get home so Mom could take me to Best Buy before dinner.
As I approached the patio, I noticed the side door was open, and a light was on behind the screen. Occasionally Mr. Morris was outside filling the birdfeeders, but not today. I peered into the backyard, did not see him, so I knocked on the side door and called his name. “Mr. Morris! Mr. Morris! Paper collection!”
There was no response. Any other month, and I would come back on Tuesday. I just thought of Jimmy, and how much fun the new game would be tonight. My mom went back to work tomorrow, so if I did not get the game today, it would be the weekend before I would.
I knocked a little harder, and yelled a little louder: “Mr. Morris! Where are you?”
Still no response. I could not face Jimmy without the latest World at War, so I yelled again, and opened the door.
That’s when I heard the first noise. Not a scream, not anything that I could describe, just a noise that offered a glimmer of hope that I might be able to get a new video game today. The light from behind the door was coming from the family room, up a few steps from the doorway.
“What a funky smell”, I said to myself as I walked up the five steps. Sort of smelled like my Grandma’s house, but different somehow. Maybe old men and old women smell different.
The family room was messy, but not any different than the outside of the house. It looked like no one had dusted or cleaned up in a while. The walls were covered in yellowish wallpaper with a gold print. There was a large table in the center of the room that was covered in newspapers. When I picked one up, thinking that someone actually read the town’s newspaper, I noticed the date was November 22, 1979. The other newspapers on the table were just as old, but the dates seemed random.
That’s when I heard the noise again. It sounded a lot like hearing someone’s echo from far away. I continued into the living room, where I noticed that the curtains were pulled closed, and the room was dark, except for the glow of the television. As I moved towards the television, the familiar scenes of MASH were causing the glow. My mother watched MASH every night on TVLand, and it seemed just as old as the newspapers.
I tried to change the channel; I had to be home by 3:00, and I did not have my watch. I tried to change the channel to the TV Guide channel, but some old TV show was on each channel.
More questions and another echo. At this point, it was pure curiousity that kept me looking and probing for answers, and my money. When I heard this echo, I swore it came from upstairs. As I headed towards the stairs, I heard the mysterious noise again, and I knew for sure: it was coming from upstairs.
The hard wood floors turned to bright orange shag carpet on the stairs. As I walked upstairs, I saw more lights. I had no idea how Mr. Morris lived in such a dark house! At the top of the steps, I saw where the light was coming from – a large bedroom.
The bedroom was as messy as the rest of the house. Over in the corner of the room was a clothes bureau, half open. As I poked around, I found plenty of clothes that looked at least twice as old as I am. There was no technology: no TV, no computer, no iPod alarm clock. There was an old lamp on the night stand, and a really old stereo in the corner. The cabinet next to the stereo was filled with square cardboard sleeves that contained large black discs. The covers of the sleeves had artwork and pictures that looked like album covers, but the black discs inside were at least twice as big as CDs. “America”, “The Jackson 5”, the “BeeGees”, “Olivia Newton-John”… who were these people or groups?
That is when I heard the echo, and this time, it was much louder than any other time I heard it. It was also more distinctive, and I could definitely tell it was a scream. I dropped the cardboard sleeves, and ran down the stairs. The scream continued, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I ran towards the door. The screen door posed no resistence as I flew out of the house. Once my feet hit the red brick of the patio, I heard a loud slam. I turned, and I saw the side door had slammed shut behind the screen and I.
I guess that Jimmy and I will not be playing a new video game tonight!
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
"A Sense of Summertime" - Take 2
Thank you for the input with my poem. After reading the comments, here is my revised version. I tried to be more colorful and specific. :)
“A Sense of Summertime”
The coconut aroma of Banana Boat lotion as I walk across the sandy beach,
The whiff of barbeque in the warm evening breeze,
Squeals of laughter as giddy kids ride their bikes down the street,
Melodious notes from the robins as I wake from slumber,
Twinkling specks of star dust from lightning bugs after dark,
A cotton-tail bunny dashing across the lush lawn,
The refreshing splashes of cool water while at the local swimming pool,
The warm sun on my back like a down comforter on a cold night,
The cold cherry popsicle melting in my mouth,
The tart taste of invigorating lemonade purchased from the neighbor’s stand.
“A Sense of Summertime”
The coconut aroma of Banana Boat lotion as I walk across the sandy beach,
The whiff of barbeque in the warm evening breeze,
Squeals of laughter as giddy kids ride their bikes down the street,
Melodious notes from the robins as I wake from slumber,
Twinkling specks of star dust from lightning bugs after dark,
A cotton-tail bunny dashing across the lush lawn,
The refreshing splashes of cool water while at the local swimming pool,
The warm sun on my back like a down comforter on a cold night,
The cold cherry popsicle melting in my mouth,
The tart taste of invigorating lemonade purchased from the neighbor’s stand.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
My first try at a poem... Enjoy!
I was looking through a book of prompts I have for my students and found one about writing a poem about a season using the 5 senses. Here's my "rough draft". Any comments would be much appreciated!
“A Sense of Summertime”
The sweet smell of suntan lotion,
The scent of a barbeque,
Kids giggling on their bikes,
Birds singing in the morning,
Rabbits hopping across my lawn,
Tons of people in line for ice cream,
Splashes from the swimming pool,
The warm sun on my back,
A sugary popsicle in my mouth,
The tart taste of refreshing lemonade.
“A Sense of Summertime”
The sweet smell of suntan lotion,
The scent of a barbeque,
Kids giggling on their bikes,
Birds singing in the morning,
Rabbits hopping across my lawn,
Tons of people in line for ice cream,
Splashes from the swimming pool,
The warm sun on my back,
A sugary popsicle in my mouth,
The tart taste of refreshing lemonade.
Here we go!
Well, I think I've figured everything out with the blog. Let's hope it is still all here after I sign out! I've been trying to do some brainstorming about topics to write about. Some ideas are journaling, short stories, lists, and maybe some silly poetry. Check back to see what I come up with!
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