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A cozy little stop where, technology in language arts, history and geography, meld together for Room 301 students at Deer Park.

by liam m

teacher: Mr. D

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-The boat was trying to dock during the storm-

The grey waves slapped continuously against the marked and chipped hull of the boat, with a monotonous “smack, smack, smack”! Fog, the colour of decaying bones, set it’s translucent and wraith-like tendrils upon the 22-footer, as if in attempt by the sea to drag it into it’s cold and foreboding embrace. As the boy gazed into it’s fathomless depths, the motor sputtered and the boat jerked, and the fog grew thicker. Rocks as sharp and serated as a shark’s made themselves visible through the fog, protruding from the callous and cold-hearted waters of the Black Sea. Then, all was silent, too silent for the sea . The deep breath, before the plunge into icy blackness. Then, suddenly, the beast exhaled and rock-shark teeth, bit into plastic-fish flesh, and the boy stumbled and fell. Fell into the the churning, foaming broth of frigid black.

Article posted October 27, 2008 at 07:05 AM • comment (1) • Reads 65 • see all articles

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