EDIT:
Braco
“Hi, my name’s Braco. I am currently a house pet at the Fergur’s. My owner calls me a beagle, whatever that happens to be.” If you don’t know what the beans a beagle looks like, just think about snoopy…. This happens to be my rise from poverty.
“I was 6 years old when my owners moved across town. I got taken along to comfort my only friend, Gad. She finds a nice (fake) nametag as a cat that my owners adopted from the pound. I personally hate him, but my owners think he’s just the cutest thing in the world.” We got to “our” new house. “Reason I say “our” in quotes is because when we got there, the apartment complex had a no dog rule.” They allowed cats but not dogs. How ironic... So I got forced to the dingy streets of downtown Ventura. It was there that I learned all of the street’s names and learned everything you needed to know about living on the street. I set up a box house, a very bad one at that. I tried to make a crude supper dish but could not find the proper materials. So, I went up to a Homeless guy a begged my heart out trying to get a nice bowl he had attuned from another homeless guy…. And Guess what? It worked! I walked off proudly and strutted back to my box house, and when I got there, I found that it got squished. Some random kid sat on it. I dropped my bowl and ran away. I don’t know where I ran but I didn’t stop. I finally got tired of running and found myself under a freeway off-ramp. Luckily that had a new box. It was barely used and it still had that old factory smell. I used that box for seven months. Then, some time near July, there was a brush fire. As soon as I smelt fire, I bolted out of my box. A firefighter crew came and put out the fire, but they couldn’t save my box. I felt depressed, until a nice firefighter by the name of Dog “Doggy” Firestack took me in his hands and brought me to the local fire station.
Have you ever wondered what it feels like to live in a fire station? Well it feels like Paradise… You can walk anywhere you want, eat where you want, and even sleep where ever you want! You get the idea. Then the dreaded fire bell rang. (I always hayed that noise, but it is a price to pay.) Dog ran up to me and took me in his arms. Ah, the life of a fire dog….
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I made a new story. Tell me if you like. I don't care if it is bad. It is a "rough" draft for a school assignment. Very Short Story 450 words...
Braco
09-24-2010, 04:40 PM
Braco
Dang it! I swear he changed that! 
Linear Mode
