Ends up my mom saved a bunch of the writing I did in Mrs. Russell’s 4th grade class. I don’t recall writing these stories and thoughts. By examining the collection, I suspect that they were weekly quick-write exercises that had assigned themes. The heart and soul I poured onto the college-ruled page is a treat for now, the future. Spelling and punctuation have not been altered. Notes are my present self’s.
One day the coolest thing happened, my friend gave me a pencil (a really cool one).
I didn’t use it until I had to. So I used. then all of a sudden it became a car. So I rode in it.
Then it became a pencil again. So I wrote with it again.(1)
Then it started to grow into a airplane. So I rode in it.
Then it became a pencil again. I asked the person next to me for a pencil. This one was a normal pencil.
I’m glad this one was a normal pencil.(2)
Well thats my story. (3)
(1) Rode/wrote? Pure literary genius.
(2) I had low tolerance for adventure and paranormal activities.
(3) A Pulitzer was clearly not in my future. Neither was being voted “Most Popular” in high school.