Looking back

    Every year our homeschool group puts on a show, so that family and friends can see what we have accomplished in the past year. Usually it's a puppetry show, a drama or a talent show or a good mix of all three.
    Recently, we have been going back and watching some of the older ones to see how we have grown and progressed in the past years. It's fun sometimes to look back and see just how far we have really come.
    As we watched the shows, I recalled what was going on in my life then.
    This past year I participated in a lot of classes, but my favorite was by far the creative writing class. The class was very loosely held together because there were only three of us in it. The rest of the group was participating in the puppetry performance which held practices during that time.
    We wrote lots of stories using the writing prompts from the book, 712 More Things to Write About  by The San Francisco Writers' Grotto.
    Since there were so few of us in the class, we got to read all the stories we wrote out loud. Some of them were silly, some were short, some were long.
    I would like to share with you one of the stories I wrote using the writing prompt:
    Walking to school with a broken heart...

    I stare at the stop sign at the end of the street. My boyfriend and I broke up last night and the thought of love is disgusting.
    My walk to school in this delicate state would usually have been manageable on any ordinary day, but today is not ordinary.
    A man holding a bouquet walks by and says, "Have a wonderful Valentine's day." My stomach lurches.
    "Shut it." I mutter under my breath.
    I continue on my way and pass a couple sitting on a bench near the library.
    "I love you." One coos.
    "I love you more." The other giggles.
    "I hate you both." I grumble as I kick at the dirt.
    This superficial holiday has put me in a remarkably bad mood, but the next thing that happens throws me out of control.
    An Elvis Presley impersonator is singing a beautiful love ballad in the park while he strums his guitar and admits his emotions from the very depths of his soul. The lyrics are wonderfully romantic.
    If I was strolling by with my special someone, I might squeeze their hand or whisper something into their ear; instead I beat up the guy and smash his guitar over his head.
    Good news! I didn't have to finish walking to school. Bad news, I got a nice ride to the police station.
    I am now a juvenile delinquent. Yeah me.
    I knew I should have called in sick.

     The End