My friends and I like to write alot. These are just some of our short stories, or current writing projects. If you want me to publish some of your stuff, email a file to novathebobo@yahoo.com. Please send the attached story with your name and the title. Thanks, and happy surfing!
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So, my friend Alyssa wrote this poem. It's pretty good. She's like an expert poet. It might not make any sense, but read it:
Two friends of one heart,
A lust of forever or as simple as art?
There once was a cry, weeping and sad
A wonderful frog, quiet and dead.
La la la la la, A captain or a flag,
Cry me a river a brown paper bag.
Hahaha.
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Ohmygoodness. The way Lindsey writes gives me the shivers. Well read it :
TORNADO BY LINDSEY MICHAUD
The leaves whistled as I stood waving on the doorstep. My dad pulled out and I heard Maggie’s shrill bark in the back seat. A breeze like a blow-dryer ruffled my silvery-blonde hair and my tiny toes were pink on the hot cement. It was a cloudy day and the Texan sun that usually kissed my tan skin was slowly diminishing.
There were not many kids on my street and none were outside screaming and playing. I turned my back and headed inside, I had better things to do.
“Looks like it’s gonna rain soon, Linz. Make sure you didn’t leave any toys out,” Mom said, glancing up from the luggage. I raised my head and stared outside. Grey, threatening clouds were splattered across the sky like an artist in a fit of temper.
The thunderous wailing of the base sirens split the air and my mom froze for a split second. Then it felt as if everything was moving and a continuous, pounding roar was close to deafening me. My thoughts were split, incoherent, and confused as Mom grabbed my arm and pulled my little brother, Ben, with her.
“Come on! Hurry!” She wasn’t screaming, but her voice was raised with distress and worry. “Get in the tub,” Ben and I curled up in the bathtub and Mom hurried out. She returned soon with a mattress and laid it on top of all of us. My mind wasn’t frozen, but I was still, tearless, and quiet. Thoughts flew through my head in rapid succession, but none of them took the shape of words. My dad, storm, was he all right? What about Maggie? Better air. I twisted so that my face was outside the mattress. Wind was beating against the window with merciless, unrelenting fists.
Then it was gone. No wind, no movement, no sound, as if I had pressed mute on my life. Mom lifted up the mattress and we stepped out. Ben was whimpering and the tears from his red eyes still hadn’t dried on his cheeks. Mom hugged us tightly, but I couldn’t breathe, because her shoulder was at my throat. I let go and ran to the door when I heard the bell ring. Everything was the same, as if nothing had happened. When Dad opened the door, my miniature hands wrapped around his leg as if I’d never let go. A tiny tear slid down my cheek. I heard him ask Mom, “What happened?” He hadn’t even been in the tornado.
I won’t forget this. The feeling of total helplessness and uncertainty. The power of the tornado which didn’t touch the ground. The joy of knowing that everybody and everything was safe. It’s been about eleven years and it’s the scariest memory I have.
Thanks Lindsey!_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
