Harris Burdick Writing

A Strange Day in July

My brother was throwing rocks into the small pond. He threw with all his might but the third rock came skipping back.

PLOP! The tiny rock fell into the water as a dark cloud pushed in front of the beaming sun. I suddenly felt a scared feeling run up my spine. 

“Huh” I sighed to get his attention.

“When are we going home?“

Today we had gone to the small pond to play with the quacking ducks, I personally didn’t want to go but my younger brother and sister did and if I took her for 10 minutes Mum would give me 2 cookies when we got home. We do this whenever we have spare time or when we are bored. My loving mother trusts us now because when we were younger we use to do this. So we understand what to do and where to go.

When I saw the third rock he threw come skipping back, I instantly remembered when my mother asked me if I touched any rocks the previous day I was at the pond. She also said that when we go to the pond never to touch the rocks as they were strange. But then I just tuned her out and started to daydream about all the strange things in the world.  I lay my head on my sister’s shoulder and close my eyes.  

By the time I open my eyes it’s even darker, but the moonlight is shining bright enough to give us some light to know where we are. I hear Mum calling out to us. I yell back. I turn to nudge Georgia but she’s not there. I call for her. I hear a small chatter as I slowly get up and realize my eyes are still closed so I rub them as they open. I look around and notice that I am in my room and the light is on so that might of been the moonlight I was seeing and the darkness was just because my eyes were closed. I start to laugh as I knew everything was a dream.

This is my Harris Burdick Narrative. This piece of writing wasn't easy or hard it was in the middle for me. Coming up with ideas that fit the picture was the hard part. But stretching out the ideas to make it about a paragraph was easy.