The warm spring breeze flits in through the open window of the cottage, dragging a bunch of dried leaves and fallen flowers with it. Freshly cooked bread sits on the center of the kitchen table, neatly sliced in half. The lingering smell of the previously eaten food wafts through the air, so strong you could almost taste it. The chairs stand scattered around the table, quickly pushed aside by the children as they ran outside to play. Clothes hang inside an old cupboard in a bedroom, wrinkled with use. Books are stacked up on a desk tower above the writing materials sitting on the table’s polished surface. 

Outside, the air is filled with the smell of pine trees and newly grown flowers. The wind sends the water rippling in the lake by the cottage. Two children skip along the path leading to the village, occasionally stopping to pick up a flower or look at a bug they’ve never seen before.

They travel to the village, where people with suits and corsets walk the streets, carrying bonnets and umbrellas and what not. A carriage or two are parked in the square, patiently waiting for their next passenger. The man selling the daily newspaper stands at the corner of the streets, shouting offers at passerby. They stop to buy them, the jingle of the coins in their purses heard from a mile away.

— misha 7c

Activity: Creating the Opening Setting 

“Fuh- Fuh-ree sample, mm- mayum?” A man in colorful suspenders walks up to me and holds out a tray of little chocolate chiffon cakes on a toothpick. His smile curves unpleasantly in a nervous manner and the tray is shaking so violently the cakes are almost falling off. I simply nod and try a piece. “Delightful! Where can you get more of this, sir?” I say after patting my lips down with a handkerchief and give him a reassuring smile. Hopefully that would get the point across that I am of no harm. “‘Ight acoss’ dat stur-eet deyah, mayum.” He replies, pointing across the street with a shaky hand. I nod at him and head towards it. All the confusion in my brain has been replaced with pure excitement as I skip down the street to the bakery.

I press my gloved hands and my cheek against the glass and marvel at the window display that showcased the delicious pastries and cakes. I swallow to stop my mouth from watering and enter the store. As the door closes, I close up my parasol and walk over to the counter. I use the few seconds of waiting to observe the store. Bright sage green walls, light wooden chairs painted pink, a jukebox in the corner playing some more jazz, mixed wood floors, and a couple coat and hat racks. What a pleasant sight it is.

 A handsome young woman wearing a pastel pink apron and holding a rolling pin walks up to me with a rosy-cheeked smile. “‘Ello, Madum. How may ‘Ah heylp ya?” she says as she puts her rolling pin down and washes her hands. She is definitely not as nervous as the polite sample man, but I notice that she avoids eye contact with me. “Hello. I’d like to have a slice of the.. Chocolate chess pie, if that wouldn’t bother you, ma’am.” The woman nods and hands me a pretty white box. “For ah nickel, madum.” What a steal! A nickel for a chocolate chess pie! I hand her a nickel and ran out with my box, satisfied with my voyage.

  It was 8:50 in the morning as Timothy James McVeigh arrived in the city, Oklahoma. The sun was out, providing warmth to the citizens. A bunch of kids were skating at the skate park, enjoying and laughing. He parked his vehicle at the parking lot, getting his suitcase which had the bomb with the timer which was waiting for it to start ticking. He had planned to denote it at 11 am but then changed his mind and decided the due to be at 9. But before starting it, he went to the nearby store and grabbed some gum to chew on. As he got out of the store looking left and right before crossing the road; then he walked a few blocks, reaching this old-looking building and scanning it, he simply smirked at it, the Murrah federal. He knew the building consisted of a large number of people. His target was right in front of him, he let out a chuckle; looking at the people entering the building. He went toward the entrance and placed the suitcase a few centimeters away. He started the time for 6 minutes; enough for him to escape safely, leaving 168 innocent people lifeless.

   (200 words)

 · Alicia Shajan 7c·

She was looking out of the window, looking at outside world. She could  see many other Indians working outside, the could also see the British people talking to each other. She could hear them talking in English, she couldn't understand what they were saying. But the only thing she couldn't nee among the Indians was happiness."

Everything seemed dull in her. The room she was in was very beautiful. Through the window in the distance, she could see her mother working. She couldn't bear to see her mother working so much. Her mother was tired and she had to cook food her   and neema. She knew that the British men's would not allow her to go in the house so she saw that they were talking something so she secretly came in the house Since the British man had many workers they could not remember everyone.

Father died years before railroads were a thing. If only he was still alive, we would enjoy Paris together… Me, Margaret, mother, and father. 

I wanted to wake up feeling fresh and happy, and grateful for, everything. But the thought of father makes everything a lot harder. 

I opened my window drapes as I hear my sister play Beethoven's greatest work, Fur Elise, on the piano, again. Yes yes, I know, that song could start history, but Margaret always fails to play that piece beautifully. 

“Alright, Marg it’s time for you to stop playing and get ready for school,”  

“Elizabeth would you please stop speaking for once, it really bothers me”

“Just like when you try to play Fur Elise and fail every time.” I’m not wrong though.

Mother has been really stressed out lately. I know everybody drinks but last night, she finished our final bottle of champagne. Although the view of the approximately finished Eiffel tower still takes my breath away, I still miss looking at it with my father. 

We would always recreate the tower in drawings and complete them every morning. Now, I completed it without him.