Showing posts with label recess. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recess. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Recess!

This morning's 100 words:

It's funny how some memories from long ago shine clearly in my mind while other, more recent events are sometimes difficult to recall. Recess in elementary school: I remember certain moments so well that I have a hard time believing that decades have passed since I was that little girl swinging on the swings and climbing on the monkey bars. After rainstorms, I remember walking along the perimeter of the school, looking for worms I could rescue from stomping feet. I played foursquare near the doors and king of the hill next to the tennis court. Fun times; simple times. I'm glad I remember.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Hourglass

Aheila's Drabble Day prompt this week is Hourglass. Check out her blog for the rules.

I decided to use the idea of the hourglass--the fact that it measures time--as the basis for my drabble:

Jake caught Ava's eye. "Is it time yet?" he whispered.

"I can't see the clock." Ava's voice was low. Speaking was forbidden, and there were penalties for those who were caught.

"What kind of psychopath would do this to someone?" Jake said, louder this time, and Beth, seated to his left, giggled.

"Silence!" shouted a voice from the front of the room.

Beth raised a book in front of her face, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter, and Jake scowled, muttering under his breath. "She's such a b--"

A bell rang, cutting off Jake's words.

"Okay, everyone. Time for recess," the psychopath/teacher said.

Saturday, April 30, 2011

A memory

A lengthy sentence I wrote for today's 100 words exercise:

Spring was a muddy time in Upper Michigan, and I can remember recesses during elementary school when we weren't allowed on the soggy playground and instead were told to play on the school driveway and sidewalks, where teachers and aides would patrol among us, ensuring that we didn't run out into traffic or throw balls at cars, and I can remember the gym teacher, Mr. Teddy, commenting on my looped pigtails as I paced the sidewalk that led toward the high school, wondering why we had to play outside at all, wondering why we couldn't just stay inside and read.