(no subject)
Title: Just a Poor Country Wall
Verse:More Creative Writing projects from HS
Characters:a Wall?
Word count:590
Rating:G
Summary: Rewrite a Nursery Rhyme from another characters POV
I can’t believe this guy! Who does he think he is? It’s bad enough that I’ve got every kid in the town jumping over me all day. I don’t need some weirdo that looks like a blasted egg sitting on me. This guy isn’t exactly light, either. The sun’s shining; it’s a beautiful Sunday morning. Why isn’t this guy in church? If not for him I could be sitting here peacefully not a single kid would be jumping on me until church let out. Heaven forbid I be allowed to spend one day at peace.
Oh, confound it all. Don’t tell me that it’s noon already. Drat! I know that laugh. Bobby Jacobsen and his little gang. The first one over launches from my left side, landing in the middle of the road. Then another and another. They’re all going as close to my little eggy friend as possible, trying to scare the poor sap. Where’s Tony? I haven’t seen him yet.
“Wait… up…” Is called from between wheezing pants. Oh joy. He grasps my top ledge with his grimy, piggy hands and heaves. All he manages to do is get his torso leaning over me. What is wrong with this boy’s mother? She needs to stop feeding him. Ouch! The little bugger kicked me.
He struggles and then his right leg is over so he’s straddling me. Oh no. Tony, don’t! It’s too late. He tips, his left leg flying, catching Egg-man’s shoulder. Down they both go.
Holy Mary Mother of God! He really was an egg! Oh that is nasty. Tony and the other boys look horrified. I think Tony’s reasoning is that his shoe is full of egg whites. Well, Tony, I just got splatter painted! Oh goodness. Warm egg slime, lovely. Absolutely lovely! Terrence Abbot is the first one to run, then the other boys are following. Tony pauses to empty his shoe before waddling after them. Thanks a lot, boys. Just leave me here, dripping with egg goop.
I swear, this guy’s going to start cooking in a bit. I think most of what’s on me already started. What’s that? Horses? A lot of horses. Look at that! Coming up the road! An entire army of mounted soldiers and… the king… the king!!! The bloody King of England and I get to see him! Me! A little country wall. Oh it would happen that I’m covered in half-cooked egg bits the day I see the king.
The horses draw to a halt in front of me. After that there's a flurry of activity. Men in mail and red uniforms are sifting through the dirt, looking for bits of shell. The king’s barking orders and then a whole new set of men are looking. After some time, when the afternoon sun was getting low in the sky, the men stood away. I glimpsed a vaguely egg shaped form made from the shell pieces. Then it was dumped in a box and tied onto a packhorse.
The men remounted and set off, back the way they had come. Leaving me still sitting here with, now fully cooked, bits of egg on me. Leaving me to await the torment of another day bearing the weight of the town’s children. They could have at least washed me! Some king he is! Cares more about a blasted egg than me! What would he do without the walls? Just because I am not wall to any house doesn’t mean I don’t have connections! We’ll see just how long your castle stands!
Verse:More Creative Writing projects from HS
Characters:a Wall?
Word count:590
Rating:G
Summary: Rewrite a Nursery Rhyme from another characters POV
I can’t believe this guy! Who does he think he is? It’s bad enough that I’ve got every kid in the town jumping over me all day. I don’t need some weirdo that looks like a blasted egg sitting on me. This guy isn’t exactly light, either. The sun’s shining; it’s a beautiful Sunday morning. Why isn’t this guy in church? If not for him I could be sitting here peacefully not a single kid would be jumping on me until church let out. Heaven forbid I be allowed to spend one day at peace.
Oh, confound it all. Don’t tell me that it’s noon already. Drat! I know that laugh. Bobby Jacobsen and his little gang. The first one over launches from my left side, landing in the middle of the road. Then another and another. They’re all going as close to my little eggy friend as possible, trying to scare the poor sap. Where’s Tony? I haven’t seen him yet.
“Wait… up…” Is called from between wheezing pants. Oh joy. He grasps my top ledge with his grimy, piggy hands and heaves. All he manages to do is get his torso leaning over me. What is wrong with this boy’s mother? She needs to stop feeding him. Ouch! The little bugger kicked me.
He struggles and then his right leg is over so he’s straddling me. Oh no. Tony, don’t! It’s too late. He tips, his left leg flying, catching Egg-man’s shoulder. Down they both go.
Holy Mary Mother of God! He really was an egg! Oh that is nasty. Tony and the other boys look horrified. I think Tony’s reasoning is that his shoe is full of egg whites. Well, Tony, I just got splatter painted! Oh goodness. Warm egg slime, lovely. Absolutely lovely! Terrence Abbot is the first one to run, then the other boys are following. Tony pauses to empty his shoe before waddling after them. Thanks a lot, boys. Just leave me here, dripping with egg goop.
I swear, this guy’s going to start cooking in a bit. I think most of what’s on me already started. What’s that? Horses? A lot of horses. Look at that! Coming up the road! An entire army of mounted soldiers and… the king… the king!!! The bloody King of England and I get to see him! Me! A little country wall. Oh it would happen that I’m covered in half-cooked egg bits the day I see the king.
The horses draw to a halt in front of me. After that there's a flurry of activity. Men in mail and red uniforms are sifting through the dirt, looking for bits of shell. The king’s barking orders and then a whole new set of men are looking. After some time, when the afternoon sun was getting low in the sky, the men stood away. I glimpsed a vaguely egg shaped form made from the shell pieces. Then it was dumped in a box and tied onto a packhorse.
The men remounted and set off, back the way they had come. Leaving me still sitting here with, now fully cooked, bits of egg on me. Leaving me to await the torment of another day bearing the weight of the town’s children. They could have at least washed me! Some king he is! Cares more about a blasted egg than me! What would he do without the walls? Just because I am not wall to any house doesn’t mean I don’t have connections! We’ll see just how long your castle stands!