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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 06, 2011

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Submitted: July 06, 2011



I gazed up at the stars, while stretched out on the beach chair, outside. I was on the roof of my house,with my grandma.  And it was perfect for star-gazing. It was as quiet as a church, the way I like it. I peered at my watch, it read 3 a.m. I was an insomniac, so it wasn’t a big problem staying up late.

But, slowly I drifted off into a silent, sleep as the tiny balls of fire that some call stars, fade off with me, into my dream. I smile while in, my sleep, and little did I know, was that I was about to have the best dream of my life:

It smells like urine and fish, on the dock, but it doesn’t make me any less prouder about my boat. S.S. Michaelson. The sparkling stars nearly blind me with there beauty, and the especially black ocean water, creats massive waves, as I hear the quiet “shoooosh, shooooosh…….shoooosh…….” and every so often, a loud “WOOOOOOOOOOOSHHH!”  The fishes I caught (48, to be exact) are stowed away in big wooden boxes, for me and my family to eat, when I get home. Since it’s such a beautiful night, I decide to star gaze. So I plop down on the unsturdy dock, piled with pigeon poop, and goose poop, and gaze up at the beauties. I hear a russel, but I assume its just a pigeon, or some other ocean animal…but then I hear a loud CLANG! And I sit up, starting to get the impression I was being watched. I whipped around, only to hear someone/something swoosh down, under the boat. This makes me worried, so I get up, the stargazing will just have to wait. Maybe someone’s trying to steal my fish. I take a dolphin net, and slowly, ever so slowly. SWING! I capture the bandit, with a bucket full of MY fish in his hands, only to realize, the HE was not a he, he was a she. The lady looked up, and her cheeks were tearstained. I didn’t notice this at first, but…It was my dead mother. Yeah. The one who had died giving birth to me.  I scream.



And that’s when I shake myself awake, only to find my grandma, stealing a cheez-it from the bowl on my lap.

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