Assignment: Write a paragraph - in a childhood voice - you at whatever age a profound incident took place; write as if it happened just now.
Those sixth grade boys always play over here. I make soft sand and draw in the dirt and stuff and they're mean and call me names and laugh a lot - the mean way.
What does "Lurch" mean anyway?
And...and...I don't even wear green so I can't be the Jolly Green Giant, can I?
Stupid boys.
Donnie Wight and Pat Small and David Yokely and Robby Simpson, he's the meanest. One time I cried and he called me 'Lurch' and 'Four Eyes' and 'Frankenstein' and stupid names. I told him "I'm not green!" and he laughed the mean way really loud and it hurt my ears. He didn't even stop when I asked him to or told him to shut up or when I cried. He just laughed and laughed.
The mean way.
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