A Story To Write A Short Story

After months and months of preparing for the big race, the day has finally come. It was a perfect summer day, when Ronald Raptor and his friends Tiffany, Travis, and Barbra strolled up to the Blaze’n Race’n Track. Someone else was walking up too, a ginormous, mean, green, dinosaur named Tyrone the T-rex. Just a glance in his direction makes the hairs on the back of your neck spike up, but he was jealous of Ronald. To sum it up, Ronald wins at life, he has friends , he’s cool, and he beats Tyrone every year. “But, this year would be different” Tyrone thought with a evil smirk on his face, “I have a plan”. Interrupting Tyrone’s mastermind plot was Ronald’s laugh, making him remember how lonely he was, but nevermind that. It was time to start.

Weeds grew tall in the front garden of 6 Beach Hut Cottages and the gate at the end of the path sagged in the middle. She paused on the step and put her ear to the door to listen for any sounds. Floorboard squeaking. The sound of voices. But it sounded as dead as a soggy cornflake.

Peggy gave a long sigh while sitting at her window in her spacious living room watching the raindrops travel down the panes of cold, foggy glass. She felt just as dark and gloomy inside as the rain made it look outside, because her little Logan was upstairs packing. Although he wasn't so little anymore since he was packing to go into the Air Force. She gave another sigh as she thought of how lonesome it would be in that large house all alone after he left. He had been her saving grace since his dad had died while doing his tour of duty. The equipment in the plane he had been a co-pilot in tragically crashed. It was so unexpected, so life changing. She tried to be strong for her son but she knew in her cloudy mind and broken heart she had failed. He had been the strong one for the last three years. Now she would have to be strong for him, she couldn't make him feel guilty for going on with his life, for living.

“Abby, Abby get up, get up” My younger sister, Kate, squealed while bouncing up and down. I shot up out of my warm sleeping bag to feel a rush of fresh morning air surround me.

The sun beamed upon my face as I skipped along the yellow brick road with Dorothy and followed the adventures of other daring travelers in my stories.  I read about Miss Piggy, Peter Pan, and Judy Moody. As I read through each page, I noticed the creaking sound of the wooden swing where I sat. The sound reminded me of ocean waves, so I placed the book on the swing and pretended to be a sailor. I named myself Captain Shell and decided that I was sailing through the rough waves of the Atlantic ocean. My grandmother began walking through the grass which to me was the Atlantic Ocean. “A loch ness monster,” I shouted while brandishing my book as if it was a sword. She giggled and played along with my childish game. Eventually, I was defeated when the loch ness monster captured me with hugs and kisses. Overwhelmed by a grandmother’s love, I chortled uncontrollably. Suddenly, the sprinklers began and the smell of fresh cut grass became evident. I ran through the sprinklers and stomped in the mud. “Come on,” my grandmother said beckoning me to go inside. I obediently raced towards her house. I took off my shoes and quickly went to the kitchen in search of cookies that usually occupied the kitchen counter. I grabbed one of the chocolate chip cookies and made myself a glass of milk.

After Ms. Luella Bates Washington Jones shut the door, she went to sleep. When she woke up at 6 AM, She walked to work and just realized that she’s late.

Picture this, you’re in the middle of the forest at 3 am on halloween night, but technically it is November 1st. Your car has broken down and now you are stranded, for a while you just sit there and wait for someone to drive by. About thirty minutes later you remember that you have extra gas in the trunk of your car. You unlock the car and jog to the trunk and struggle to get it open, clank crash click, it opens. You find that the gas had a hole near the bottom of the container, goodness gracious you think to yourself. All of a sudden you feel a strange presence as if you weren’t alone.

After she got settled into the room she got the things she needed out of her backpack. She walked over to the bathroom and got her hair damp and

“Yes. Perhaps that would be the best idea,” Monsieur Roden agreed, looking from one of them to the other.

LITTLE WILL PENNY sat behind a dustbin in an alley just off a quiet commercial street somewhere in London listening to the sounds of the holidays. Christmas music floated above the din of traffic. A rotund old man in whiskers, glasses and a long red coat rang a bell in front of a candy shop. Kids pulled their mums and dads along the sidewalks searching for treasures in toy stores. Twinkling lights spread muted color into the gloom of the alley.

Still, he doesn't know who to blame for that... if there was anybody to blame... Maybe it was timing; they were living in a present, but the impending future was pushing the burdensome past too cruelly for a normal outcome of the situation.

John Logan breathed a stream of hot air into his cupped hands, hoping to warm them up against the cold mid-morning air. From his mouth poured a waterfall of steam, visible and telling of the temperature. If there was anything that John Logan hated more than having to deal with a homicide is doing it on a cold, winters morning.

There was a parade of emergency units around the apartment. As Darlene looked around, a flow of tears fell down her face. Lynn parked and not trusting her mother’s nerves, she rushed to help her get out of the car. She knew what her mother had said about

“Can you hurry up? You’ve been in the bathroom for forty-five minutes!” Sophia yells through the bathroom door.

"Can you elaborate?" She was starting to get annoyed with his short answers and dodges. If he caused her to lose her free meal she was going to... she didn't know just what at that moment but if he gave her a chance to debate his death, she was going to come up with a very creative option.