The Boy and The Storm

It was a captivating day in April 1906.  Joyfully, a dark-haired boy was flying his kite at the Golden Gate Park.  He looked at the picnic area where his glove and half eaten sandwich were.  It was a nice day out and his family had decided to go to the park.  The flowers smelled like ketchup packets and he could hear harmonic hummingbirds as they were taking their nectar.  He saw some closely quaking dark clouds in the distance.  It was a nice day and he was not expecting a storm.  He was expecting charming butterflies, which would have made his day even better.  He wondered if he might get struck by lightning.  He felt really scared.

“I feel scared,” he softly exclaimed.

 

The boy got lifted off the ground from the whirling wind with his kite.  The ground, which opened up, broke all the homes in half.  The homes fell, created friction and started fires.  The lighting from the storm was also starting fires and the fire was burning homes to the ground.

 “This is horrible,” the boy loudly cried. 

From high up he could see all the homes and people from the sky. He thought it was the end of the world. Sadly, lots of lives were lost.  It was a bad day.

 

The boy finally landed but he landed in a tree. He saw a nest. Carefully, he got down, which took him about 5 minutes. He saw that the fire was getting closer so he ran for the hills, which was the only place that was safe. Lots of people were on the hills to. After all the fires were out, everyone set up tents. He stayed in one with his uncle and sister. His mom and dad were in another tent. They stayed there for about 4 years until the buildings were rebuilt. When they were rebuilt, they walked to the park and he flew his wonderful kite again.  It was scary.  It wasn’t fun.  It was sad.

Writing assignment from The Institute for Excellence in Writing, All things Fun & Fascinating