Sunday, October 13, 2019
Got Sanity? :: Creative Writing Essays
Got Sanity? It was a quiet night. No cars driving by, honking their horns. No sounds of little kids yelling. No dogs barking. Just peaceful and quiet. A gentle breeze blew with an occasional smell of spring in it. The air was just right, cool and fresh. Keith sat on his favorite porch rocking chair. He was just relaxing and gathering his thoughts. He liked to think. He liked to think. He thought about his dreams, he thought about his life and how it was going. He thought about his dog and how it used to be a playful puppy full of energy. It sure grew up fast. Keith thought about a girl he once fell in love with. He should probably get married before he turned thirty. Who knows maybe he'll never get married. As Keith sat there, now thinking about his new, red truck, he noticed his shoe was untied. He stretched down to retie it and saw a small card beside his foot. Funny, he hadn't noticed it there before. Maybe it blew up in the breeze. Yes that's what happened, the wind had blown it there when he was off in dreamland. Oh well, he thought and then he picked it up. The card had printing on it. It simply read, "go look in your mail box". Keith gave out a small chuckle and thought about his mailbox. Was someone joking around with him? It was probably that pesky neighbor boy, James. He was always coming up with something new and unusual to try out on his neighbors. "What the hell", Keith said aloud. He then stood up and walked over to his mailbox and opened it up. "Yep, another card", he said. The same small, black print on it too. Except this card said something just a little different. As Keith ran to his back yard where his dog house was, all he could think of was what the card had said in his mailbox. "YOUR dog is DEAD". Keith suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He could see blood. The dog house, which he had just painted a nice fresh coat of white, was now covered with red, blotchy stains. Blood everywhere. Who could have done such a deed? The golden retriever that Keith had loved so much and raised for four years now lay dead. There was hardly anything left of it. Its legs had been ripped completely off and were thrown around the yard. Its head was nailed to the front of the dog house. The body of his favorite and only pet was cut wide open and staked to the
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