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Just Another Boring Day in The Knob

Short story By: Mike Stevens

Another Jimmy Tilford Tale!

Submitted:Jun 4, 2012    Reads: 15    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   

Just Another Boring Day In The Knob

By Mike Stevens

A Jimmy TilfordTale

I recently had some excitement in my life, and I would like to tell you about it. My name is Jimmy Tilford, I'm 10, and here's what happened:

I had just gotten out of school at Wobbly Knob Elementary. My teacher, Mrs. Westerhouse, had just told me that I wasn't living up to the standards she expected out of me. Her words made me angry, who did she think she was, that she could expect anything of me? She didn't really know me. So I wasn't in the best of moods as I left there. I was looking to raise a little heck; but what? As I walked across the overpass above the main street in Wobbly Knob, I kicked absent-mindedly at a pine cone. Suddenly, I had a moment of clarity, which at my age are few and far between, let me tell you!

There was a car coming below, I think it was a Mustang, so I took careful aim with the pine cone I had just picked up, and timed my throw perfectly. I thought, what's a little harmless fun? It won't break anything! Well, let me tell you what happened; the pine cone arced from my hand and struck the car's windshield. I'd only hoped to scare the person driving, but the car jerked to the right, and flew out into Mr. Haver's cornfield. It tried to gain traction on the muddy ground (it had been raining), but the wheels just shot mud behind the car. The car was stuck. Looking back on it, I was lucky that was all that had happened.

As my disbelieving eyes watched, the driver's door flew open, and a very angry (red in the face) guy shot out and looked up right at me. Now, I think, what the heck was l doing? Why did I just stand there? I should have taken off running, but I guess I was just too shocked at the result of my actions.

"You little jerk! "You're dead!"

That galvanized me into action. I ran, and ran, until I reached the sanctuary of my home.

As I'm writing you this story, I'm gazing out the window from the kitchen window, where I can see the street out front of the house. A red Mustang pulls up in front of the house. No, it can't be! When the driver stomps angrily up the walk, I see it is in fact the very same angry, red-in-the-face driver whom my air-born pine cone had startled so badly.

"Mom, I'll be in my room doing homework!" I yell into the living room where she's working on some bills. I can just imagine the confusion on her face; Jimmy, MY Jimmy offering to do his homework without me having to threaten him with bodily harm? I run down the hall to my room, desperately trying to figure a way out of the house from my bedroom. After thinking, I wonder how long my fingernails will last; maybe I can claw a hole in the wall?, I hear pounding on the door. Oh god, he's here; I don't know how, but he knows it was me; damn small towns, anyway. Someone must have seen me and told! I hear my mom answer the door, followed by a conversation I can't hear, then,

"Jimmy, get out here, now!"

Oh, oh!

The End


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