Let’s get your writing juices flowing.
The first three posters win a prize.
Use all the words in the set to write a mini story 300 words or less.
Paper clips, principal, lunch box, swing, girl with a pink ribbon.
Use all the words in the set to write a mini story 300 words or less.
Paper clips, principal, lunch box, swing, girl with a pink ribbon.
7 comments:
I used two paper clips to pin up my hair. I snatched the lunch box from the girl with the pink ribbon and ran up on the homewrecker. Yes, I was the principal of the school on the clock but that woman ruined my marriage. I had to get her. I took the first swing as the children’s mouths dropped in awe. They were all screaming my name. Oh boy, I just had to let my emotions get the best of me. I was definitely not setting a good example for the kids but I was diggin’ into that head full of weave she was rockin’. We tussled until I threw her on the ground. Lord and behold some little girl came up screaming, “Mommy, mommy!” Aw man, what a silly decision I had made. In front of the kids, and her kid, I ought to be a shamed of myself. Oh well, the show had already begun. The police were here and I was walking away in cuffs. Darn, she wasn’t worth it but she took my husband from me. I was happily married or was I? Whatever the case may be, I was now going to be out of a job. Unemployment here I come!
In memory of her mother, Angela, an eight-year-old girl, wears pink ribbons in her hair every day. She attaches them to her brown ponytails with paperclips, so when she swings on the playground swing, they will not fall out her hair. She tries to sway as high as possible, hoping to see her mother in the clouds. The principal warns her about flying high. He tells her the same thing each day.
“Ms. Angela, please bring it down some,” He says.
“Alright!” She yells back. “I’ll catch you next time, mom,” She whispers to herself.
When recess ends, she recites a prayer for her mom.
“Dear Lord. Please continue to wrap your arms around my mom as she sleeps on cotton in heaven. Let her know that I am okay and I will see her again someday as I play. Amen!”
“Let’s go class!” The principal shouts.
Angela jumps off the swing; grabs her lunch box; and goes back to class smiling.
Principal Gaines sat gazing out of her office window at the excited children running towards the building as the bell rang. There she is again, the little girl with the pink ribbon in her long dark hair. Every day she got out of the long black car with her book bag and lunch box. She had only been a student for a few weeks and no one could figure out where she came from. A guardian enrolled her in school and all attempts to reach a parent had failed. She would try again today. She simply had to reach someone to discuss the strange “incidents” that seemed to happen when the little girl was around. She had received several reports of swings that swayed by themselves on the playground, desks moving on their own in the classrooms, even strange messages appearing on the chalk boards. She didn’t know what to think of it. Nothing like this has ever happened at her prestigious private school. The sound of drawers being opened and slammed shut in the secretary’s office snapped her thoughts back to the present. “Mrs. Baldwin!” “Mrs. Baldwin, is everything ok?” Principal Gaines quickly jumped to her feet, hardly noticing the little tray of paper clips that fell to the floor as she headed towards the door. Just as she reached the doorsill the heavy door to the office entrance slammed shut and there was complete silence. What is going on? Slightly shaking, Principal Gaines made her way to the door and began to slowly open it. Just as she stuck her head out and looked into the hallway, she heard a giggle and caught a glimpse of pink disappearing around the corner. Could it be?
As soon as I pulled out of the school, I noticed Taylor's lunchbox in the back seat. I checked my watch and sighed. If I turn around I'll be late for work, which cannot happen because I’m coordinating the MDA Lockup today. I meet the arresting sheriff in ten minutes, If Taylor doesn’t get her lunch she won’t eat, because she’s allergic to everything else. I veered into the school parking lot chiding myself for choosing to do this parenting thing solo. Maybe I should take my ex back, so that every decision I make won't be so dire. Then I remembered he was a deadbeat jerk and hopped out the car.
I almost knocked over a little girl with a pink ribbon in her hair, as I race walked toward the principal's office.
“Slow down, Ma’am,” a man says from behind.
I swung around to see a handsome man with a fat dimple holding down his right cheek. If he wasn’t so cute, I might have told him off.
Instead I said, “God bless you.” And got out of there.
I did my best to not be too late. However the traffic was ridiculous. I arrived a half hour late. I prayed no one would notice, but who was I kidding? As soon as I reached the Hilton my sheriff was waiting for me. He had his on and his arms folded over his chest. My heart dropped to the floor. Fairness and parenthood just don’t happen when you have to do it all. I could already tell this guy wouldn’t understand.
Once I got closer to him and stopped a few paces short of him.
He removed his shades and smiled. “So I guess it’s my fault for telling you to slow down.”
He twiddled the thin metal between his fingers as he sat on the bottom step of the portable classroom. A cardboard box lay at his feet, the paper clips strewn across the asphalt.
He surveyed the school yard. The girl with a pink ribbon in her hair pushed her feet into the air, propelling herself upward on the swing, her friend with the blue shorts and freckles pushing from behind. The other girls jumped rope. A group of boys dashed about, yelling and grunting with every contact as they played a game of football. Then there was him, alone. Ignored.
The principal strode toward him from the direction opposite the playground. He acted as though he didn’t see her. No reason to give her the satisfaction of his anticipation.
“Stanley, what is this mess you’ve made? You were supposed to be thinking about why you’re not out there playing with all your classmates.”
He stared straight ahead, no hint of acknowledgment.
“Well, I know one thing. You’re going to pick up every one of those paper clips. And then,” she checked her watch, “because recess is just about over, you’re going back to class with the rest of the students. You can forget whatever you brought in that lunch box. It will be waiting for you at 3pm. See me after school to get this back.”
She picked up the Transformers lunch box and walked away. He rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like he was going to miss out on a cheese-and-mayonnaise sandwich. And he wasn’t going to get that lunch box. He’d grab a soda and a beef pie from the Jamaican store on the way home with the coins in his pocket. If he were lucky, his empty stomach wouldn’t rumble too loud during the afternoon math lesson.
Thank you ladies for stepping out and posting.
You win a pair of earrings by Makasha Dorsey
I will post another mini story on Thursday, so stop by and add your words.
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