Monday, May 28, 2012

Three Minutes Slurping Popsicles

Normanday #30: You could fry an egg on the sidewalk today. You shouldn’t, but you could.


Write for three minutes about…


…the best way to cool off on a hot summer day.


Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day June 3 (put “Norman is on Fire” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.


Here are the entries from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes about…


…the last day of school before summer vacation.



Cranberly

Woo-hoo! It’s the last day of school before summer vacation!


Woo-hoo! It’s breakfast on the last day of school before summer vacation!


Woo-hoo! It’s the next to the last bus ride on the last day of school before summer vacation!


Woo-hoo! It’s announcements in homeroom on the last day of school before summer vacation!


This day is just zipping by.


Woo-hoo! It’s a fun lunch with all my friends on the last day of school before summer vacation!


Woo-hoo! My teacher ran out of material and let us watch a movie for class on the last day of school before summer vacation!


Woo-hoo! It’s the final school assembly on the last day of school before summer vacation!


Everyone is pretty rowdy.


Woo-hoo! It’s the 2:30 bell on the last day of school before summer vacation!


Woo-hoo! It’s the last bus ride home on the last day of school before summer vacation!


Woo! Woo! I’m home. It’s summer vacation! Yay!


....


I’m bored.



Tren Rewy Steb

My desk is a scrapbook of memories. I clean it out on the last day of school before summer vacation. In it is a piece of broken pencil, the purple one my aunt sent me. It had my name on it which is why I kept it even though I sharpened it down to a stub that doesn’t have my name on it any more. This piece of blue plastic broke off of something, but I can’t remember what. Those corners of green construction paper are leftover from the Christmas trees we made for the hallway bulletin board. Under each tree we put a drawing of the present we dreamed of getting. I can’t remember what I drew. I remember Taylor drew a skateboard with a skull and crossbones. He got one with lightening bolts instead. I was meant to take home this pink page that listed all the things I needed to bring to school the day of our field trip to the zoo, but I forgot, just like I forgot a packed lunch and money for the gift shop. And this folded-up page is the spelling test I failed. I didn’t forget to take it home. I stashed it at the bottom of my desk where I wouldn’t be reminded that I don’t know how to spell encyklopeedya, tomorough, and vaccume. What’s this crunched up sheet under it all? Oh! It’s the essay I wrote the first day of school about how I spent my summer.



Bigfoot

Take back these books that have strained my arms and my back all year: the dense physics book; the hefty history book (I dropped it on my toe during the Revolutionary War, a mistake I never repeated); the social studies book filled with weighty issues to ponder; the beefy health book; the pesado Spanish book; and the English lit book filled with short stories that frankly could have been shorter. Ah. That’s better. Light as dandelion fluff, I float into summer.

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