Three Minutes of Anticipation

Normanday #29: Countdown to swimming pools, sleeping in, and lightning bugs

Write for three minutes about…

…the last day of school before summer vacation.

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day June 3 (put “Norman is Dazzling” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.

Here are the entries from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes about…

…being a goldfish.

Tren Rewy Steb

I’m a 24-karat gold fish. Every day prospectors come to Lake Au to try to claim me. They boast to each other that they know the way to entice me to their hooks and nets. But I’m not tempted by their fat worms or gobs of peanut butter or the dog food they slop like chum into the lake. I watch them all from beneath a flat rock, amused at their arrogance and folly. Have they nothing better to do than squat in their boats letting the sun bake their square faces? When I hear mutterings of doubt, when the weary prospectors begin to reel in their lines, I ripple the surface until I hear their gasps of admiration and oaths of renewed determination. While they scramble for their nets, I’ll take a break to eat. There’s a delectable jewel dangling amongst the water lilies. How it glistens! I inhale it and swallow. It tugs! Suddenly I’m pulled, up, up up, like a loon rocketing towards the brilliant light above. A prospector shouts: “A diamond lure and I’ve struck it rich!”

Bigfoot

What are you looking at? How about a little privacy? How would you like it if I gawked at you all day? Not that I don’t understand the appeal—I’m attractive and graceful, and watching me lowers your blood pressure. But would it be asking too much for some curtains or blinds? Knock off the tapping on the glass already. What is that? Morse code? Here’s a message for you: Quit dipping your pinky finger in my water. F.Y.I.…I don’t nibble your finger because I think it’s a worm. I’m fantasizing I’m a shark. Speaking of eating, let’s discuss the menu. I’m not saying I never want those flakes again, but how about a little variety? I wouldn’t object to some powered donut crumbs on the weekends. And what’s with the guppies getting to live in that huge aquarium over there? I’m five times bigger than they are. Just look at them. Seriously, look at them.