The Yard

The little shed in the yard was our secret hideout. The best thing was when mom gave us big slices of homemade bread with butter and cinnamon sugar on top. We took it to the secret hideout where we could plot adventures and share secrets.

The hideout was full of shovels and hoes and things. I thought it would be fun to use them to plant peas. (Mom said it was time to plant the peas.) Nathan wanted to play with the water guns. We decided to do both, but peas first!

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “the yard.”

Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

3 thoughts on “The Yard”

  1. Surprisingly wild, her garden. I imagined it tidier, more predictable. A grassy yard lead to a wonky, flakily-painted hut, the door closed yet somehow inviting. A dusty window, implying somethings you may, may not, see. A jauntily-hung, mirrored signpost. Herein, The Fairy Kingdom… Enter only if you believe.

  2. Smoke, steam, ash filled the air. Black grit coated the walks and crunched underfoot. Windows were grimy with coal ash and the peculiar sulphuric smell of coal fires hung in the air. To Petey, it was all exciting. Steam engines chugged, rails screeched, men shouted. Wagonloads of barrels pulled by sweating teams of huge horses plowed through the muddy railyard, the drivers dirty and tough-looking. It was everything the boy dreamed of.

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