“How was school?” I questioned. “What do you think!” she hollered in morose fashion. She bolted up the mahogany stairs and belted her door shut. After a while, I started to worry so, I rushed upstairs to observe what see was doing. Unexpectedly, she was doing her, well in her words, “dull” homework. I could just about read what was written on her expensive laptop, it read
“Steel, carrots, tearful, under, mauve.”
“What the hell was she doing?” I thought to myself.
By Christopher