One day, a beat-up black van was seen driving down an innocent country road. It seemed to be filled with people. What was really in this van, you ask? Let’s go back in time and find out.
“Sister Berrrrtha! We need to gooooooooooo now!” Sister Julia screamed at the top of her lungs. Six nuns, Sisters Julia, Bertha, Molly, Lucy, Eleanor, and Prudence lived in a convent in southern Wisconsin, and they loved road trips, especially when the road trip led to a new church youth group carnival. They loved youth group carnivals, except when clowns are there. Sister Julia hates clowns. They make her need to go to the bathroom.
“Coming! Be patient!” Sister Bertha screeched. “Well, we’re in the van already!” And it was true. Sisters Molly, Lucy, Eleanor, and Prudence were in the beat-up old van that took the sisters everywhere. Sister Julia was still outside of it yelling to Sister Bertha.
Finally, Sister Bertha waddled out of the convent, carrying a large suitcase. “I’m-sorry,” she puffed, for she was a very portly woman. “I-have-so-many-habits! I-needed-to-find-a-big-case-for-them-all!” She shook her curly grey hair. “We really do need to have a garage sale when we get back. My back really is going to break if I keep this up.” Sister Lucy sighed. “In the car, please!” “Fine!” Sister Julia helped Bertha shove her suitcase into the trunk with the others. “Wow,” she exclaimed, “It really is heavy!” Sister Bertha just rolled her eyes. They hopped in the car and were off.
Driving down the highway, singing along with Toby Mac, the sisters discussed where they were headed off to this time. “I want to go swimming!” said Sister Molly. “I want to go to the library!” said Sister Prudence. “I want to go to Liverpool!” yelled Sister Eleanor joyfully. “Where?” asked Julia, Prudence, Molly, Lucy and Bertha. Sister Eleanor made the sign of the cross, as if praying for all the poor people who don’t know where Liverpool is. “Never mind.” She sighed. “What about the petting zoo?” asked Lucy. “We haven’t been to the petting zoo in ages! We used to really like it there, remember? The little goats and bunnies and lambs? They’re so fluffy! Let’s go there today!” There were general sounds of agreement from the sisters, then Bertha remembered, “Oh, no! The nearest petting zoo is three days away! That’s a long time!” She looked like she was about to cry. “Oh, Bertha, it’s okay! We can just fly there in an airplane!” said Sister Julia, the peacemaker. Bertha perked right up. “Okay!” she said brightly. Well, this was a first. The nuns not traveling in their van? It’s never been done before.
Two hours and one-and-a-half Toby Mac CD’s later, the nuns arrived at the Wisconsin Airport, bags in their hands. They managed to find their plane, get on it, and settle down in their seats without one misshape, something that astonished even sensible Sister Eleanor. Once the plane had taken off, the nuns whipped out their cell phones and started texting each other about the petting zoo.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
off the webernet
Sorry for not updating sooner. I'm working on a story. I don't want to give it away, so all I'm gonna say is that it's called "vanfullofnuns". One word. Later!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
shout out
Hey, Beatle Chick here! I just wanted to send a quick shout out to some people I know will read this! Y'all are the best and I miss ya!!!!!!!!! :)
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
The Journey, Chapter One: In the Beginning
Okay. Here is the first chapter of my latest work-in-progress. I am working on Chapter Two right now and also on another story too, which I will publish later.
In the Beginning
"Anne! The new neighbors are here! Come meet them."
Anne Cooper looked up from the flower bed she was weeding at the sound of her mother's voice. She stood up, brushed the dirt off of her hands, straightened her dress and her hair, and walked inside.
The first thing she noticed about the new neighbors was their hair. All three of them had brown hair, but only the teenage boy cut it normally. The parents had long, dirty-looking hair that fell just below both of their waists. The man's was long and straggly, and the woman's was roped into one long, thick braid. Now that Anne thought about it again, the boy's hair did look a bit odd, too.
The woman's voice jolted her out of her daydreams. She was saying, "Now, you'll have to pardon George here," she said, ruffling George's hair. "My husband and I let him go live in England with my sister Bessie for three years while we moved to Alabama because of my health, and when the three of us move back up here, George has messed up his hair! In England, they call it a mop top, but it looks more like a rag. Apparently, it's just some crazy fad passing through. i wouldn't be surprised if boys here in New york started wearing it too!" Well, that was quite probably the strongest Southern accent that Anne had ever heard.
Looking down, Anne realized what the woman was wearing. A piece of gauzy fabric formed the sleeves of her tank top, and she was wearing the shortest, most psychedelically-colored skirt she'd ever seen. It was not quite the best first impression Anne had ever had.
Mrs. Cooper introduced them. "Anne, this is Mr. and Mrs. Phillipson, and their son, George. George has been living in England for three years with his aunt Elizabeth. The Phillipsons have just moved next door from Alabama!" All the time Anne's mother was talking, Mrs. Phillipson had been nodding and smiling, but Mr. Phillipson and George just sat there staring into space. Unfriendly neighbors! Anne scoffed in her head.
Anne walked around the room, shaking hands. "Nice to meet you, pleasure, welcome to New York." As she finally reached George, though, she had to put out her hand and wait fifteen seconds for him to grasp it. He finally clasped it and looked up. "You have a very lovely home." he said softly, staring into Anne's eyes. Up close, he was actually sort of handsome, with his accent and his green eyes that seemed to be flecked with bits of gray. Compared to what his parents were wearing, George was actually dressed up, in khaki pants and a collared shirt. "Thank you." said Anne, quite taken aback by the overall effect George had on her.
As Anne walked back to her garden after the Phillipsons had left, she wondered what she would have to do to get George to notice her, but she needn't have bothered.
At their house that night, surrounded by packing crates and an overall sense of chaos, the Phillipsons ate a delicious casserole, prepared entirely by Anne. "Mmm, mmm! Mrs. Cooper sure can bake, can't she, Ma?" said George, eating his second plateful. "I agree this is scrumptious, but Anne made it, not Mrs. Cooper." Mrs. Phillipson winked at her husband as George blushed. "Oh, well, then, Anne sure can bake. I'm full, Ma, may I go up to my bedroom and work on unpacking?"
Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Sure, son, but get the door first, won't you?" asked Mr. Phillipson, but George was already gone. He pulled open the large front door, expecting a solicitor or something along those lines. It was Anne, though, holding a large boquet of flowers. "These are for your mother. Can I help you unpack?" George took the flowers and blushed. "Um, I'm not sure," he half-whispered. "Why don't you come in and ask my mum?" "I will, thanks." Red as a beet, George escorted Anne into the kitchen where his parents were just finishing clearing the table. George cleared his throat."Mum, Anne's here. She brought you flowers."
In the Beginning
"Anne! The new neighbors are here! Come meet them."
Anne Cooper looked up from the flower bed she was weeding at the sound of her mother's voice. She stood up, brushed the dirt off of her hands, straightened her dress and her hair, and walked inside.
The first thing she noticed about the new neighbors was their hair. All three of them had brown hair, but only the teenage boy cut it normally. The parents had long, dirty-looking hair that fell just below both of their waists. The man's was long and straggly, and the woman's was roped into one long, thick braid. Now that Anne thought about it again, the boy's hair did look a bit odd, too.
The woman's voice jolted her out of her daydreams. She was saying, "Now, you'll have to pardon George here," she said, ruffling George's hair. "My husband and I let him go live in England with my sister Bessie for three years while we moved to Alabama because of my health, and when the three of us move back up here, George has messed up his hair! In England, they call it a mop top, but it looks more like a rag. Apparently, it's just some crazy fad passing through. i wouldn't be surprised if boys here in New york started wearing it too!" Well, that was quite probably the strongest Southern accent that Anne had ever heard.
Looking down, Anne realized what the woman was wearing. A piece of gauzy fabric formed the sleeves of her tank top, and she was wearing the shortest, most psychedelically-colored skirt she'd ever seen. It was not quite the best first impression Anne had ever had.
Mrs. Cooper introduced them. "Anne, this is Mr. and Mrs. Phillipson, and their son, George. George has been living in England for three years with his aunt Elizabeth. The Phillipsons have just moved next door from Alabama!" All the time Anne's mother was talking, Mrs. Phillipson had been nodding and smiling, but Mr. Phillipson and George just sat there staring into space. Unfriendly neighbors! Anne scoffed in her head.
Anne walked around the room, shaking hands. "Nice to meet you, pleasure, welcome to New York." As she finally reached George, though, she had to put out her hand and wait fifteen seconds for him to grasp it. He finally clasped it and looked up. "You have a very lovely home." he said softly, staring into Anne's eyes. Up close, he was actually sort of handsome, with his accent and his green eyes that seemed to be flecked with bits of gray. Compared to what his parents were wearing, George was actually dressed up, in khaki pants and a collared shirt. "Thank you." said Anne, quite taken aback by the overall effect George had on her.
As Anne walked back to her garden after the Phillipsons had left, she wondered what she would have to do to get George to notice her, but she needn't have bothered.
At their house that night, surrounded by packing crates and an overall sense of chaos, the Phillipsons ate a delicious casserole, prepared entirely by Anne. "Mmm, mmm! Mrs. Cooper sure can bake, can't she, Ma?" said George, eating his second plateful. "I agree this is scrumptious, but Anne made it, not Mrs. Cooper." Mrs. Phillipson winked at her husband as George blushed. "Oh, well, then, Anne sure can bake. I'm full, Ma, may I go up to my bedroom and work on unpacking?"
Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Sure, son, but get the door first, won't you?" asked Mr. Phillipson, but George was already gone. He pulled open the large front door, expecting a solicitor or something along those lines. It was Anne, though, holding a large boquet of flowers. "These are for your mother. Can I help you unpack?" George took the flowers and blushed. "Um, I'm not sure," he half-whispered. "Why don't you come in and ask my mum?" "I will, thanks." Red as a beet, George escorted Anne into the kitchen where his parents were just finishing clearing the table. George cleared his throat."Mum, Anne's here. She brought you flowers."
Monday, September 13, 2010
Who I Am
Hey everyone!
I'm here for you to read because I love to read. As I hope you do. I love writing too, which is why I'm doing this. I'm going to share with you my stories that I've written, but first, I'm going to tell you a little bit about myself.
I love reading. My favorite books are the Anne of Green Gables series, Little Women, The Diary of Anne Frank, and pretty much any classics. I write short stories all the time, and I am also working on a novel. I also write a ton of poetry.
And in case you were wondering, by the way, my favorite band is The Beatles. :)
I'm here for you to read because I love to read. As I hope you do. I love writing too, which is why I'm doing this. I'm going to share with you my stories that I've written, but first, I'm going to tell you a little bit about myself.
I love reading. My favorite books are the Anne of Green Gables series, Little Women, The Diary of Anne Frank, and pretty much any classics. I write short stories all the time, and I am also working on a novel. I also write a ton of poetry.
And in case you were wondering, by the way, my favorite band is The Beatles. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)