Humorous Stories
At recess, Stewart and I played catch. I forgot about Joe for a few minutes.
Then someone tapped me hard on my shoulder.
I spun around.
It was Joe.
"How's Dimples' little boo-boo?" he asked.
"Stop calling me that," I said.
"Now don't get so excited," he sneered. "It makes your face look like a tomato—a tomato with worm holes."
Why did everyone keep asking me how I felt? How did they expect me to feel? I felt rotten. I felt worried. I felt scared.
Scared about her falling and hurting herself.
And very very scared about what my friends would say when they found out what was going on.
How did I feel? What a dumb question.
"This is terrible!" said Fred. "We're lost, everyone's yelling at us and I'm hungry. We'll never get to the beach. I want to go home."
"Don't fret, Fred. We'll find the beach. I just know it's nearby." Pete sniffed the air. "Hey! I can smell it! It IS close!"
"Well, it can't be that close. I can't smell anything," said Fred. He sat down on the sidewalk. "This is impossible."
"Nothing is impossible, Fred!"
