Login
Copyright (c) 2014 by Conditions of Use    Privacy Policy Return to Blogmeister
-- Blogmeister

GSMA

Who will continue to use their blogs?

by

teacher: Rye Alumni

Blog Entries

Title: Language Arts: Trimester 2 (02/15/11)
Description:

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 02:05 PM GMT • comment • Reads 311

6 Word Memoir



Not allowed around oil tanks anymore.







The Present

As we go through the toll booth, my dad stops in the resting area and tells us he has something for us in the back of the car. As he opens the back my mind is racing. Is it a gift? A card? Late birthday present? It wasn't, at all. As he sat down and opened the cardboard box, a tear rolled down my cheek. It was Abby my dog. She passed away this summer.

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 02:05 PM GMT • comment • Reads 311



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 01:59 PM GMT • comment • Reads 42

Sitting on my surfboard in a world of deep blue water.

The fear of a monstrous wave crushing me.

The shear force of the wave is enough to drive you into the rock hard reef under you.

Surfing brings me joy.

When I first paddle and drop into a wave,

my adrenaline  pumps 10x faster than usual.

As adrenaline rushes through my body

I get a high that is totally unique to surfing. sitting on my surfboard in a deep blue world of fear and excitement.

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 01:59 PM GMT • comment • Reads 42



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:42 PM GMT • comment • Reads 38

There are many things I like to do- Eat, sleep, learn, play, and relax. There are many things I don't like to do- Lie, secrets, surprises, gossip, and going to school. There are a lot of things that I don't care about. If you were to ask me what I wanted for dinner, my answer will likely be "I don't care." But if you were to ask me if I wanted to play my answer would likely be "What game?" I think that keeping things simple is easy, but when there is a challenge I most likely accomplish it in no time. My favorite thing to do....well I don't know.

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:42 PM GMT • comment • Reads 38



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:37 PM GMT • comment • Reads 42

The box race

Every year in March, Loon Mt. holds its annual cardboard box race. Last year John, Max, Spencer, Jono, Camden and I were competitors. We got two Harley Davidson boxes stuck together for our box and got a ton of paint and spray paints and combined the two. The Abstract Splatter-Painted Wonder was the result.

Ahem.

Red and Green and Yellow too,

Purple, Orange, Silver, Blue,

Lots of paints, in every hue,

The Abstract Splatter-Painted Wonder!

Thank you.

Anyway, the box was so big we had to take it apart (to take it up) and put it back together again when we got there. The rules of the box race are: The bottom of the box has to be cardboard (no ski wax, or anything like that) and you can’t leave anything on the trail.

We arrived and saw all different boxes of different shapes and different sizes. We had to hike up about a 100ft hill carrying the box on our shoulders. We were the second ones to go down which was good and bad. Good because we didn’t have to wait that long. Bad because our box was so big it acted like a snowplow and cleared the way for all the other boxes. When the first person had rolled down the hill in their box, we set up ours, and all hopped in. I was in the back right. As we thundered along, we started to veer to the side. We almost crashed into the sidelines but I stuck my hand into the snow to turn us. It worked but it slowed us down. We made it down okay, and we all got out. They hauled off our box to the used zone, and used it as a trash can for other boxes. After that we watched the other boxes crash and burn or get great times, and drank delicious root beer. Unlike John and Max, two years before, who got slowest time (their trophies were free t-shirts!), we didn’t get any awards, but we still had fun.

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:37 PM GMT • comment • Reads 42



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:06 PM GMT • comment • Reads 41

The walls flew by. I shot past everything fences, others, like a bullet. What should I do? The instructors voice was muffled by the wind streaming through my ears. My hair was being whipped around. But still I urged her on. Only alert for one word; whoa. Push, pull, push. I used it like a never-ending rhythm.

All the sudden it felt different yet I continued. It felt like flying. Then it came.

"Whoa!"

And with dread I pull back. There's always next week.

Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:06 PM GMT • comment • Reads 41



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:14 PM GMT • comment • Reads 39

Rollerskating requires confidence and preciseness, you must be cautious and daring and remember to never fall forward. That's what she should have remembered, but she didn't.

"Push back lightly."

"but it's easy."

Crash! Legs flew out at odd angles.

"Ouch! I'm okay."

She got up. She was daring but a little caution might not go to waste. Her confidence was damped but not enough. She was precise.

"C'mon!" Roaring over the music she screamed.

Crash!

"Are you okay?"

"My wrist hurts."

She should have remembered to fall backward and be cautious. But she didn't.

Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:14 PM GMT • comment • Reads 39



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:21 PM GMT • comment • Reads 42

Her,



Funny, creative, helpful,



Friend of mine,



Loves Bison and Cats,



Happy, confused, annoyed,



Spiders, scorpions, rabid animals,



Who rode a bike,



Travel and skydiving,



Home,



Her

Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:21 PM GMT • comment • Reads 42



Article posted November 3, 2010 at 02:54 PM GMT • comment • Reads 45

Twirly,

Spiraling down,

Helicopters,

Flying,

Bunches,

Blades,

From trees,

Hovering,

Swirly,

Twirly,

Seeds.

Article posted November 3, 2010 at 02:54 PM GMT • comment • Reads 45



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 06:59 PM GMT • comment • Reads 64

Show Day. I wake up early to go over to the barn. I bring all my gear, but wear comfy jeans and a plain tee shirt. we arrive at the barn just in time to help groom Conrad and treasure. We load them into the trailer and get going. Elle rides with Susan (my instructor), Ellie, Lily, and Macy (other riders.) I go over with mom and Heather (Susan's daughter.)

We arrive at the barn at about 10:00 a.m. It is huge, with rows and rows of gorgeous wlooden stalls and a huge intimidating ring. The outside has many paddocks, and the barn is painted white. I can feel the excitement in the air as we walk Treasure and Conrad into their stalls, and begin to brush. Once we finish, Heather warms up each horse. Now, it's prep time. I am third to go. After putting by riding pants and black sweater on, I sit down in the chair and am ready to be toyed with. Susan gets to work. First, she brushes my hair and puts it in a loose bun. She beggins to shove pins in. After this, she sprays my hair 'till it's like grease and covers it with two nets. My head puuled so tight it feels delicate.

After Elle, Lily, Macy, Ellie, and I are all bunned and netted, Susan starts make-up. I get a lot of mascara, a heap of lip-gloss, and enough blush to make me feel like a different person.

Ellie goes on, and so does Macy. We all eat lunch, then Elle and Lily ride. I finish getting ready, and Susan puts me up on Treasure. My heart is beating as we walk outside and beginto warm up. We only walk for about five minutes before we go in. I faintly hear chimes of "Good Luck," but my heart pounds so loud I barley notics. As the announcers voice comes over the loud speaker, my heart seems to pound out of my chest, my soul lifts in anxiety, and I step oout into the ring.

I never gave much thought to showing. If I did, the wish was purley academic, there wasn't a horse nor trainerwho fit me, and I certainly wasn't even a grain of sand in equestrain competition. Even so, Susan had faith in me, and set me on a gorgeous bay Morgan, TLR Treasure Chest. Over the next few months, I learned the art of dressage, tight double rain and straight back. under no mistake to be made. then Susan entered me in a walk/trot class due to my lack of experience. The thought of riding in front of a judge was frightening, and unfamilure. It seems as if then, the whole world was open. it was my oyster, and I was the pearl. But as time went on, I began to understand the competition of show dressage. I realize only now that the ribbons of show dressage show not only you and your horse, but your tough training and natural ability. The spur on you foot says authority, but the keen eyes of the judge say different. Maybe, they're in charge. When you leave friendly competitions at home and enter the real world you realize that not everyone is a winner, and you have to fight to stay on top.

Article posted November 2, 2010 at 06:59 PM GMT • comment • Reads 64



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 05:29 PM GMT • comment • Reads 40

Just a dream

Walking home from school on a cloudy afternoon. Listening to my ipod, texting FSCA, suddenly my phone and ipod die on full charge. Hearing the foot steps behind me make me tremble. I turn around, no one is there. My pace grows faster and faster until i am in a complete and full sprint. Now all i see when I turn around is a tall man in a shadow figure. He is jogging at a very slow pace. I cut a corner behind a large dumpster. The man looks both ways then runs faster, still going straight. I sprint to my house trying not to make any noise. Before I know it, I am in my bed, safe and sound. I wake up, it was only just a dream I say to my self.

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 05:29 PM GMT • comment • Reads 40



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 05:46 PM GMT • comment • Reads 53

The biography I read was called JK Rowling the wizard behind harry potter. This book was about JK's life growing up. JK was born in England July 31st 1966. She has a sister Di who really inspired her to write and make stories. Jk loved writing, she moved all over the place but finally settled down for collage. After collage her first job was to be a secretary. JK did not like this job so she quit. Then began her writing career after other jobs. Harry Potter was rejected many times before one publisher picked it and it sold around the world. JK then stared the seconded book in her series and all the fans were hungry for more!

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 05:46 PM GMT • comment • Reads 53



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:27 PM GMT • comment • Reads 37

On October 21, 1805 was a sunny day with few clouds and a North westerly wind. On this fine day six vessels of his majesties royal navy. Sailing picture perfect with there sails rustling in the wind and the the Union Jack boldly flying high above the masts.

There Position, right off the coast of the Bahamas. The bright light blue ocean was gleaming in the sunlight. Dolphins swam up to the bow of the ship and sailors would climb up on the masts to get a great view of the magnificent creatures. At points you could see straight to the bottom covered with coral and seaweed.

"A fine day for sailing" said a tall Admiral



"Indeed sir" replied his aid, "hopefully we won't run into any problems"



"problems?" the Admiral replied in convulsion.



"Yes, problems. There has been reports of of outlaws raiding shipping in these waters recently"



"Really? My understanding was that they where dealt with a long time ago".



"Nope the ships never made it, they where used for the war against the French".



"I see, well I am sure they have sailed away by now"



"I hope so" the aid replied worryingly .



With that the conversation ended and they continued to admire the beautiful scenery that surrounded them.

The next four days would be the same type of weather, and on the fifth day it it looked like it was going to be the same way until about mid-day. At this time a dense fog fell over the horizon blocking the sun and sat straight in front of them .



"A strange thing to have a fog come upon us after such great weather" One of the officers remarked.



"Indeed it is" replied the admiral.



"i don't like like it" said a sailor, "its to suspicious".



"We should wait it out" another said.



"YA!" others yelled.



"Gentlemen, we have a dead line! We must get these goods to port or the king will have our heads!" said the admiral.



With that the deck fell silent.



"GOOD, now set sail!" he ordered.



"Aye, Aye" the crew replied.



Once again the ships set sail into the fog. Unfortunately though they had no idea what lie ahead of them...........



TO BE CONTINUED



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:27 PM GMT • comment • Reads 37



Article posted May 9, 2010 at 03:08 PM GMT • comment • Reads 40

UK embassy, Paris


Kenneth Brown, head of security for UK embassy


 


  I watched him disappear into the crowd.  Grasping the phone with a grip that could strangle an ape I called the security near by and tolled them there is a threat approaching the ambassador from the main entrance.  It was to late though he had already produced a small container from his jacket and poured it into the ambassador's drink.  I cursed and ran down the stairs as I spoke into the walky-talky "Get the man in the green jacket."  He was already making his way to the exit when the ambassidor picked up his drink.  A black car pulled up outside as the man approched the sidewalk the door opened and he got in.  I spun around and started at ambassidor as took a sip of his drink, he twiched and fell.  someone in the crowd screamed.  Guards rushed in from everywhere as the panic became more intence.  This wasn't going to end well.


 

Article posted May 9, 2010 at 03:08 PM GMT • comment • Reads 40



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 07:17 PM GMT • comment • Reads 40

As the chair climbs the steep snowy slope below me and approaches the unloading station, the squeak of the old, worn down chairlift gradually gets louder. When I reach the top, I push off very quickly and duck from the chair that whips around behind me. I've been hit by it before, and it does not feel good! The view at the top is nearly 360 degrees of beautiful Maine mountains that surround me. The small portion of the view that is block by densely snow covered pine trees, is right where I'm heading. I take my skis off, then walk up the steep slope. Every step I almost fall over because of my clumsiness in ski boots. At the top of the small hill, I enter the densely wooded forest that drops down thousands of feet to a lonesome valley. But the view in front of me is the reason I came here. Nearby the land is filled with rolling hills and mountains covered in pine trees, but the most incredible part is in the distance. The eyecatching snow capped mountains of the Presidential Range are truly breathtaking. The presence of them makes me feel small and unpowerful. Then my dreamlike stat ends as a friend launches a snowball right in face!

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 07:17 PM GMT • comment • Reads 40



Article posted May 14, 2010 at 07:24 PM GMT • comment • Reads 40

Dear Grandma the Clown,



I love your work. You are so funny, although I think you are a man. But that doesn’t matter, because everyone loves you , you are the best part in the show. So what do you do in real life?



Sincerely,



Celia Anderson





Dear Celia Anderson,



Well you are the 777 letter I’ve gotten today. But you are the only one that has asked me about my personal life so, thank you. First I am a man but isn’t that funny, “How did you know that?” Anyway my life is good and If you write me back I will tell you about the “circus life.”



Sincerely,



Grandma the Clown



Dear Grandma the Clown,







Of course i'll write back i always do. What do you mean when you say the "circus life"? Anywho i knew you were a man because when i went to The Big Apple Circus in Boston, MA and you could see the little scruffs of hiar when you went into the light.





Sincerly,



Celia Anderson





Dear Celia Anderson,





Thank you for writing me back. I siad the "circus life" because in the crowd everyone loves me, i think. Nut all the cast think i'm dumb and a really bad actor. Also thye think that i mess up what is going to come up next, but i go back stage and look at the script and they are the ones that are messing everything up.



Sincerly,



Grandma the Clown

Article posted May 14, 2010 at 07:24 PM GMT • comment • Reads 40



Article posted November 28, 2010 at 10:44 PM GMT • comment • Reads 39

Light



An explosion

Bright Flares Flying

Through the darkness

A mirage or color

Intense heat

Light



No Survivors

Of this

Fiery madness

The quilted sun

Lost behind

Darkness

There is

No more light







Buttercup



Small and so delicate

Though there are many

You are basically yellow

Other colors, not any

You bask there all day

Absorbing the sun

And later at night,

There’s no time for fun

You are such a sight

For everyone to see

Because you are a buttercup

As buttercups should be





Kitten in a Box



I am cold

I am hungry

I am tired

My fur is dirty and wet

My box is small and empty

I am alone

I am terrified

The city noises around me are loud and scary

I cower in the corner of my box

So many people walk by

But no one pays attention

To little kittens in boxes



Article posted November 28, 2010 at 10:44 PM GMT • comment • Reads 39



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 01:56 PM GMT • comment • Reads 43

FIRE

it lights up a room when it walks in

so powerful just a tiny flame

capable of ruining a building

can die by just a signal blow

thrives with the air

lives in darkness

cooks a meal

burns a house

is destructive yet helpful

this is fire

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 01:56 PM GMT • comment • Reads 43



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:27 PM GMT • comment • Reads 44

I walked through the thick forest growth the other men flanking my side, the cold metal of my AA-12 shotgun rubbed against my hand. The rough canvas backpack heavy on my shoulders as the tree like figures above us cast shadows along our path. We needed time but unlike everything else out here, its impossible to find. We usually settled for more dead men and a heap load who won't even be able to walk.

As predicted by the ancient Mayan people the Earth was destroyed on December 21, 2012. The Government, unknown to the public, sent 200 men and women to a planet only few knew about. The planet was called Prometheus, named after the Greek Titan of future. This name was suitable given the fact that this planet was our future. The main goal of this mission was primarily to salvage mankind. We had no idea where we were going and what we would do when we got there. We were sure in for one heck of a ride....

Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:27 PM GMT • comment • Reads 44



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:29 PM GMT • comment • Reads 45

The icy wind slaps me in the face, blowing my hair every which way. My goggles are pressed hard against my face, and I can feel my skin starting to be indented. My hands are squeezed into fists so I don't loose feeling of them. The mountain is laied out before me, as I listen to the gentle hum of the chair lift, barely audible over the howling wind. The cushioned seat is covered by a centimeter of ice, giving me a reason to be terrified of falling off. My nose has gone totally numb, so I really can't smell anything, but I know if I did I would smell an overwhelming pine scent, mixed with the aroma of hot chocalate and cinammon rolls, which seems to want to settle over the whole Barker peak. I'm reaching the top of the mountain now, and the snow is starting to fall. The frigid whooshes of air cut through all my layers and I'm left chilled to the bone and shivering uncontrollably. The chairlift gets to the top, and a surge goes through me, erasing the cold. I am free and once I take off down the mountain all of my problems are simply blown out of my mind. My skis cut through the snow like butter, and I fly down the mountain, letting all the beauitiful snow covered pine trees fall behind me. The exhileration, the cold, and the fun : that's skiing.

In skiing I know that I am myself. I can hear myself think, and if I have troubles they evaporate when I hit the slopes. In skiing I can fly like a bird, speed like a racer (which I actually happen to be) and be as slow as a turtle. I am part of skiing, and skiing is part of me.

Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:29 PM GMT • comment • Reads 45



Article posted May 10, 2010 at 08:28 PM GMT • comment • Reads 43

 



 



I suddenly awoke to find myself in a grassy field. I looked around a saw a vast ocean, sandy beaches, and strange creatures of all sorts. I walked over to sand and squished my toes in it. It felt great to be alive again. I ran into the ocean and felt the thrill of swimming again. I jumped out and ran down the beach. I jumped up on top of a rock and felt like I was king of the world. Then a strange creature walked up and said “you are king of the world”. The creature looked about 2 feet tall and had short claws. The creature was grey and had large eyes about the size of a tennis ball. I looked down and said “how did you know what I was thinking”. The creature said well us looglaps can read other creatures thoughts. I then asked “looglap what is your name”. The looglap said “Well my name is Greg walison”. I thought to myself why that name seems familiar. It does he said. I then said “this is going to be hard to get use too”. I asked Greg how many looglaps are there in the world.



 

Article posted May 10, 2010 at 08:28 PM GMT • comment • Reads 43



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:31 PM GMT • comment • Reads 35

This was the day I played hide and go seek with a cat. I see him. I'm creeping up to grab him. I pretend to have a treat in my hand, but when I got to go to grab him, he leaps swiftly and runs away. I follow him. I try to grab him again. I miss. He sneaks into the basket. I pull the basket out. He runs. He bolts up the stairs. My eyes are on him I put my hands out and.................... Got him! I hold him like a baby his eyes widen. and looks at me, with his cute hazel eyes. I let him down. He doesn't run away he stays right there. Still looking at me like he wants me to pick him up again. And thats the day I played hide and go seek with a cat.

Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:31 PM GMT • comment • Reads 35



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 02:07 PM GMT • comment • Reads 47

John



My step dad

a fun guy

a wise guy



My step dad

Punishing

argumentative

Doesn't make sense



My step dad

willing

trying

overly bold



My step dad

fun

trying

bold

willing

punishing

wise

My step dad



John

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 02:07 PM GMT • comment • Reads 47



Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:27 PM GMT • comment • Reads 50

I look through the mob of people crowding around the game board. I am apparently right defense and Sophia is on my right. I run out to the field, following our goalie. I get into position and watch the other team's cheer, and then they run onto the field. Their offense is small. I can definitely get the ball past them.

As our team steals the ball from their offense, our midfields go up, sprinting to the orange, small thing. WHACK! the ball is smacked toward the goal from inside the half circle around it. the crowd cheers. We scream and run toward our goalie. The biggest part of my screaming is that we won our first game 4-0. There is actually a small part that is just so happy it could die. YAY! I got out of the millions of flies swarming my head. I rip the tape off of my ears that were covering my earrings. I push my goggles into my hair.

"We won! We actually won!" Emily screams.

As I run toward my parents, my cleats crunch on the turf.

As I meet them, I say, "This is definitely a night to go out for pizza."



20 minutes later, we pull into the parking lot, ready for the biggest pizza party with Lauren ever.

Article posted November 2, 2010 at 07:27 PM GMT • comment • Reads 50



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:28 PM GMT • comment • Reads 50

The green tails of the willows

shine gold in the sun, swaying in the breeze.

It chimes like a song on the wind, creating music as it slowly sways.

The notes fill your heart with joy and laughter. Letting your spirit soar into the sky.

Twinkling in the starlight, shimmering in the sun, and glowing in the moonlight.

It dances in the air, swinging joyously in the breeze.

The colors, like the midmorning sun radiating through a stain glass window.

The air, cold like an apple picked on a crisp October morning, while the wind is a spirit dancing in the leaves.

Wind chimes.

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:28 PM GMT • comment • Reads 50



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:26 PM GMT • comment • Reads 42

Hooves hitting the ground, hard as steal, making a beautiful thumping sound. The grass is green and lush making a great beautiful place for the horses to graze. A little circle of of trees that make a beautiful sense. The smell of pine trees fill my nose. The feel of sitting on top of my horse makes me happy.

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:26 PM GMT • comment • Reads 42



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:33 PM GMT • comment • Reads 53

Hooves hitting the ground,hard as steal, making a beautiful thumping sound. The grass is green and lush making a great beautiful place for the horses to graze. A little circle of of trees that make a beautiful sense. The smell of pine trees fill my nose. The feel of sitting on top of my horse makes me happy.

Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:33 PM GMT • comment • Reads 53



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:39 PM GMT • comment • Reads 43

As me and my dad were driving, i hear a light buzz, buzz buzz buzz. He quickly picked up the phone and said

"Hello!"

Then my sister said

"Hello!"

my sister then said,

"DADDY WHERE ARE YOU!"

"I'm in the car with your sister."

"Why DIDN'T YOU TELL ME GOSH!"

"Because you were at your friends having fun."

"FINE!'

then she hung up and we drove off.



Article posted December 3, 2010 at 06:39 PM GMT • comment • Reads 43



Article posted November 3, 2010 at 03:17 PM GMT • comment • Reads 169

I'm cold. No, I'm frozen. It is so cold that the ability to think logically has escaped my head. I feel like Jack Frost on steroids has me in a chokehold. But that's the depths of Antarctica for you. And it's probably the warmest it's been in 20 years. Thank God for global warming. But I have to move fast. Before I die out here, which I most surely will, I need to finish this. If I fail, monsters so horrible that the human brain cannot even comprehend will walk the Earth. Not monsters from hell, oh no – far worse.

I'm thirsty, but to bring water with me would have been useless, frozen before I even thought about drinking it. And the ice surrounding me doesn't help at all, that ice wouldn't melt if the whole world caught fire. And I'm far below the surface now. I take a last glance at my picture of Susannah, my beloved, and know without thinking that it would be the last time I ever see her face. Oh, well. Too late to turn back now. And with that thought, I entered an abyss.

No, not an abyss. THE Abyss. Much larger than the Tartarus of Greek mythology. This is truly a place of evil incarnate. The Abyss is so wide that you can't see the other end, and so deep you can't reach the bottom in a lifetime. Long ago, it had been covered by an immense layer of ice, miles high. But the monsters inside had been trying to break free since the beginning of time. And now, eons later, all that remained between all of the universe's evil and life as we know it was a cracked, inch thick sheet of ice.

I had been told to fix this!? I was given vague instructions and a chunk of ice the size of my fist, and I was supposed to save the world. No, save the universe. God help me, I prayed, if it ends now even you may not survive. Please save us. After my silent little prayer, I gazed at the sheet of ice and assessed the situation, one that could easily end in damnation for the entire universe. I drop my backpack, pulling a light blue, glittering chunk of ice, given to me by a servant of God – an archangel, to be exact. Someone who I suspected was His left hand man.

“Use this before the end,” he said in an oddly archaic voice, “It may be our only hope.

As I said earlier, thinking logically is nearly impossible in this cold. And I was nearly dead. The subzero ice caves were eating away at my strength – and fast. I had maybe an hour to live, if I was lucky. I sighed. I realized that, even though the sheet of ice was nearly broken, it would easily hold the weight of a human. After walking for a minute on the sheet of ice, I saw that, though there were many cracks in the ice, there were none that went completely through the sheet of ice, only scratches. The deepest crack was only about two centimeters. And suddenly it hit me.

This ice could hold back anything. So why had the monsters been able to tunnel through it? This ice represented pure good. But everything is flawed in some way. And the only way they could've made it this far was to use the one flaw, the tiny crack from the bottom to the top of the sheet of ice, as leverage for tunneling through it. The flaw was there from the very beginning.

And then I ran. Even though my strength was failing, I was possessed with an unearthly need to finish this task. After twenty minutes of sprinting, I reached the middle of the ice. And there was a fist sized hole with hellish sounds coming from it, unnervingly close. I slammed the chunk of ice into the hole, extremely dizzy. I thought of Susannah the moment before I collapsed. Then everything went black. I hoped it was enough.

Article posted November 3, 2010 at 03:17 PM GMT • comment • Reads 169



Login
Copyright (c) 2014 by Conditions of Use    Privacy Policy Return to Blogmeister