Three Minutes Not Feeding the Animals

Normanday #76: Why are there polar bears in the Reptile House?

Write for three minutes about…

…the zoo.

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day May 19 (put “Norman Likes Swimming with the Seals” 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 is the single entry from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes about…

…playing baseball.

Tren Rewy Steb

First base was somebody’s jacket in a yard. Third base was a Frisbee, across the street in another yard. Second base, a catcher’s mitt, and home base, an old plank of wood, were in the street. We used a tennis ball. When it was hit, it flew far. I always struck out. We had to stop to let cars pass. I remember the hollow sound of the aluminum bat hitting the tennis ball, and the ringing as the bat was thrown on the blacktop. Once I was second baseman, bored because nobody was hitting anything. Daydreaming, I forgot I was playing baseball, my glove carelessly rested against my shoulder. Suddenly there were shouts. The ball was hit. It came my way. Before I could react, it flew right into my glove, drawn to it like a magnet. Nobody minded that I hadn’t caught the ball on purpose. I didn’t mind being an accidental hero.