Writer's Blog: Issue 7
This week’s entry comes from Year 8 student Archie Hugo, who wrote some excellent pieces in his creative writing unit in Miss Uglesic’s class.
It was a quiet day at home, when, answering the door, the mailman hands me a normal brown cardboard box, the size of a computer screen, from someone anonymous. I am scared but tempted to open the box. I walk into the living room and put the box down. I open the box. I see nothing in the box at all. Not even dust. I leave the room in disappointment, only to find that the box is now in the kitchen. I check the living room and it wasn’t there anymore. I tried to kick the box but it moved and my kick missed. “How did the box move?” I think to myself. I pick the box up again and it disappeared out of my hands. As I walk back into the living room, the box was there again. Without hesitation I kicked it as hard as I could but my foot went right through it. It hit me back and I am on the floor in pain. The box continuously hit me until I woke up. “Was it real or was it just all a dream?” I thought to myself. I heard the doorbell ring. It was the same mailman from my dream. He delivered me a box.