The Garden of Lost Toys
“Three, two, one,” I counted down, “Here I come!” I yelled pulling my head out from under my paws. “Wimsor, Wimsor.” I howled prancing my way through the garden, where are you, Wimsor?” I pressed my nose to the ground and took in a big breath; I could smell his scent; it was a mixture of clean sheets and mocha. I continued my search mazing through the patches of roses, sweet peas, sunflowers, and irises. My journey leads me to a large rock nestled in a field of Maiden grass. “Wimsor!” I screamed jumping on the rock. And there he was in all of his fluffy teddy bear goodness!
“Oh Solmire you found me.” He smiled looking up at me.
“I won again” I said jumping on him and taking hold of his arm in my mouth. He was so soft; his fur was a snow white, his eyes small black beads and his mouth a black stitching.
“Could you let go of my arm, please?” he asked. Reluctantly I let go, and he fell to the ground in a soft, “thud.”
“Do you want to play again?” I asked jumping around him.
“No not today you’ve already won six times in a row.” He groaned getting up and brushing himself off.
I sat down in the grass, and watched as Wimsor struggled to climb up the rock. “I got an idea!” I yelled shooting up to my feet. “Let’s explore the garden!”
Wimsor sat on the rock thinking for a while, “Okay,” he said after a while, “But I get to ride on your back.”
I smiled and jumped around some more, flatting the maiden grass around me, “Get on, get on,” I squealed with excitement, “Let’s go!”
He climbed on my back and we were off. I guess you wouldn’t really call this place a garden; it is more like a world. And this place isn’t like any other garden, every day new toys arrive scattering all over the garden. I call this place...
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... sizes; red ones, white ones, and one that was white with red lances. But there was one ball that sat on the edge of the grass patch it was adorned with a black “8.” I kicked it over as I looked into the distance, “I wonder if I’ll ever find someone like Wimsor again?” I said out loud. I looked back down at the ball at my feet. A hole had been cut out and through this dark inky haze an answer appeared to the surface, “Yes, definitely” it said. I smiled at what it said and continued on my way.
I was almost back home when I saw a small blue rabbit sitting on the edge of the creek. Its floppy ears hung by the side of its head. It looked sad and lost the stitching on its left arm hung loosely. The rabbit just looked so sad. I trotted over to it and sat next to it. The rabbit looked at me with sad black button eyes.
“Hi,” I smiled eyes wide with joy, “My name is Somire!”
One day as I was walking along through the tall blades of grass, I came upon a massive figure. I thought to myself, oh just another one of these uninteresting creatures, but this one, this one was different. This one was clad with long flowing hair, and other features that did not fit my ordinary image of these marvelous creatures. I quickly realized it was going to place itself on the ground, and I was in its way. I quickly sprung to safety as the massive creature collapsed where I was previously stationed. How rude, I thought, It ruined the perfect flow of the grass. But I did not ponder too much on it as it was commonplace for these large creatures to land here. By the tree. Next to the water.
The seat of faith resides in the will of the individual and not in the leaning to our own reasoning, for reasoning is the freedom of choosing what one accepts as one’s will. In considering the will was created and one cannot accuse the potter or the clay, Milton writes to this reasoning, as “thir own revolt,” whereas the clay of humankind is sufficient and justly pliable for use as a vessel of obedience or disobedience (3.117). The difficulty of this acceptance of obedience or disobedience is inherent in the natural unwillingness in acknowledging that we are at the disposal of another being, even God. One theme of Paradise Lost is humankind’s disobedience to a Creator, a Creator that claims control over its creation. When a single living thing which God has made escapes beyond the Creator’s control this is in essence an eradicating of the Creator God. A Creator who would create a creature who the Creator would or could not control its creation is not a sovereign God. For who would not hold someone responsible for manufacturing something that could not be controlled and consider it immoral to do so? To think that God created a universe that he has somehow abdicated to its own devices is to accredit immorality to the Creator. Since the nucleus of Milton’s epic poem is to “justifie the wayes of God” to his creation, these ‘arguments’ are set in theological Miltonesque terms in his words (1. 26). Milton’s terms and words in Paradise Lost relate the view of God to man and Milton’s view to the reader. Views viewed in theological terms that have blazed many wandering paths through the centuries to knot up imperfect men to explain perfect God.
pile against his chest. Then he sat back and looked at the water with bright excited eyes.”
The Monkey Garden by Sandra Cisneros tells the story of a young girl’s loss of childhood innocence. The story is narrated by a mature woman remembering her initiation into adolescence through the images and events that occurred in an unused neighborhood lot. She is not ready to mature into adolescence and uses her imagination to transform the lot into a fantasy garden--a place where she can hide from the adult world.
Putting the violin in the case and set it by the door, where most of his things were, to make quick escape if necessary. Surely Jones and his men had not rid the forest of all the animals and Clement was for certain he could find at least one small creature to help his father. Creeping through the house he peeked into his father’s room and found him lying face down in his bed, sleeping. Jenna was resting on the couch. He took up the shot gun over the fireplace mantle and the rifle as well. He wanted to be well prepared. Slipping into his boots and thick coat he left the house through the back door in his room and headed for the
“Shut up i can talk how ever i want!” Lilly yelled, before she could turn right on the left side of her cheek, Mr. WIlson socked her. She ran down the hall with tears rolling down her face all the way to her bedroom slamming the door before Mr. Wilson could say anything else. She then threw herself on the ground bursting into tears. Laying on the floor she spotted something under her bed which at first seemed like a piece of old bark but it was the Monkey’s paw. Curiosity Lily inspected he paw not knowing the dangers it had caused. She then placed it in her pocket, thinking about how bad life was treating her.
...ns following the dog. “Bark!” Blue said. I got excited when he did that because that means he has a scent. Another 20 minutes later, he barked, searched more came back to me and started going to the west again. Well, false alarm I guess he walked back to the bear bait, sniffed around, walked around for a little bit in the woods, and walked back to the Jeep. Well I guess I must have missed the bear, we didn’t see any blood either. The dog didn’t go very far in the woods and didn’t seem like it had a lot of energy either. No hairs on the ground that we could see. So I guess I missed the bear and he is still out there somewhere today. Maybe when I go bear hunting when I’m 17 or 18, maybe he will be bigger and make a nice mount. take out much of this. simplify it so that it is falling action- too detailed for that. more general statements.
Jake, Lucy’s neighbor was a well-educated kid. He was 15 years old and lives in an old timber house with his parents. Jake’s father was a farmer and had lived in the area since he was a lad. The area seemed to be haunted since creepy tales about all sorts of beasts was told. People even claimed that they were awakened some nights by a howling. Mostly people believed that it was a feral dog but Jakes father incised that it was a wolf, a ghost wolf. He was sure since he had seen a wolf in the forest when he was in Jake’s age, but none believed him. He kept telling his son about the wolf and Jake wanted to find out the truth. Lucy knew about Jake’s curiosity, at the same time as she decided to escape from her unbearable father. So she lied to get Jake by her side on the endless escape from the futureless community. She said that she knew where the wolf’s lair was. Jake got even more curious and joined her wolf hunting-adventure.
“Ow,” I screamed as I fell right into a thorn bush and we were about five minutes into the hike then I heard JP say,
In "Kew Gardens," the narrator follows different visitors to the gardens, giving the reader brief snapshots of their lives through small descriptions as they reach the same flowerbed. The story begins with a description of the oval-shaped flowerbed. The flowers are red, yellow, and blue. They have petals that are heart or tongue shaped. As the petals fall to the ground, they stain the earth with these colors for a moment. Petals from the flowers soar through the sky in the summer breeze. The flowers' colors flash in the air. On this July day, men, women, and children walk through the gardens. As the people move through the gardens, their movements resemble butterflies. They zigzag in all directions to get a better view of the flowers.
I reached for the knife, my fingers met the plastic case. “Dang it” I cursed. I must of dropped the knife when I tripped. I was thinking about going to look for it but my hopes were crushed when I heard something coming into the mouth of the cave. I dropped to the ground and started to snake my way behind a boulder. I armed the flare gun and took aim at what was to come around the corner. I heard a rock tumble and roll on the ground. I heard a something being dragged along the dirt. I glared at the figure, the little moonlight giving me some sight. I heard Anmol screaming. HELP, SOMEONE HELP” I watched in terror as a slumped figure rounded the corner, I could not see its face. It was black and deformed in a disgusting way. I saw it take Anmol to a corner, I heard Anmol scream one last time. A shrill, spine tingling scream. I heard something cracking and tearing. Like a green branch snapping over your knee. I was pretty sure that this thing, had just killed Anmol. Just before I was about to run, something was in my peripheral vision. Something that didn’t suit the colour way of the cave. I looked, at first I was surprised that there was a hat in here. I continued to look at it, gazing. Something about it was strange, like I’ve seen it before. A yellow sun hat with a sunflower brooch? Then it came to me, it was the mother brooch the one that went missing. I snapped out of thinking and decided it was my only chance to run. My feet meet the ground, I sprung out and went beyond my top capabilities of sprinting. I knew the thing was after me when I heard It screech. I turned around, aimed the gun behind me and pulled the trigger. For once the cave was lit up, I briefly saw everything. Anmol limp body, a pile of bones and the killer monster that chased me. It screeched at the flares brightness and dove into the shadows. I loaded another flare. I looked up, I was going to shoot the bastard again. I law its shadow and shot, it
Time is one of the basic components of life that one does not often stop to dwell upon. Each second marks a transition in an individual’s life, but it is rare for someone to consider the true magic of this small measure of history. In Tom’s Midnight Garden, Philippa Pearce examines the concept of time in a truly unique manner as she tells the story of a child who comes to terms with time in an extraordinary manner. As Pearce crafts this beautiful yet simply written novel, she intertwines both a moving plot and universal ideas in order to reveal more than meets the eye in terms of the power of time. The novel revolves around a young boy by the name of Tom Long who, in an adverse situation is shipped away from his home to live with his childless Uncle and Aunt for the summer. While Tom is disgruntled by the notion, he comes to adjust his views when he discovers a magical garden that opens his eyes to new experiences and feelings. With the discovery of this mysterious world in the garden, Tom is forced to decipher the power of time, companionship, and imagination and through this journey, he evolves from the childish, inconsiderate young boy he once was into one with a more mature and sensitive outlook on his own life and the world as a whole.
Then all of a sudden, he began to choke, and blood dribbled from his mouth and got on my jacket. "What the hell?!" I yelled. I grabbed his shoulders and stared, astonished, at his face, as he silently pleaded for help. I couldn't handle looking at him anymore and I was frozen in shock, so I let him fall to the ground.
"Well, at least this isn't your last game. You guys all have another game to play," I complained as usual.
I raised my arms in anger, ?I?m talking to you.? Instantly his arm swung swiftly, like steel, it impacted on mine. Fear bulged from my eyeballs, he grasped both my hands and heaved me up. My feet dangled in the air.